THE 

SABINE FARM, 

A POEM: 

INTO WHICH IS INTERWOVEN 

A SERIES OF TRANSLATIONS, 

CHIEFLY DESCRIPTIVE OF THE 

VILL.4 AND LIFE OF HORACE, 

OCCASION£D BY AN EXCURSION 

FROM HOME TO LICENZA. 



BY 

ROBERT BRADSTREET, Esq. A. M, 



Movenwrenim, nescio quopacto, locis ipsis in quibuseorum qiios 
diligimus aut admiraraiir acWunt vestigia — ubi quisqije habi' 
tare, ubi sedere, ubi disputare soiitus sit. Cicsro. 






LONDON'. 

PRINTED FOR J. MAWMAN, IN TH£ POULTR!^, 
I J? 10. 









H. Brrer, Printer, Bridge Street, Blackfriars, London. 



/ 9 



PREFACE. 



The Letter prefixed to the following 
Poem, bears its true date of time and 
place. After the death of the friend to 
whom it was addressed, it returned 
to the hands of the writer. Reminded 
of the scenes from which he wrote, he 
found a pleasure in recollecting some 
lines to which the contemplation of 
them gave birth : and induced by the 
opinion of friends, on whose sincerity 
as well as judgment he can rely, to be- 
lieve that from the perusal of them, 
some gratification may arise, to such as 
delight to wander in imagination over 
the beautiful retreats of the Roman 



VI 



lyric bard, he has ventured to send into 
the vrorld, that which was originally 
designed only to diversify and enliven 
family correspondence. 

There are indeed few passages of 
Horace more generally interesting than 
those which relate to his Sabine Farm — 
and they can scarcely ever be read 
without the revival of a wish to visit 
the scenes which gave birth to his de- 
scriptions, both on account of their 
natural beauty, and their having been 
the residence of one so universally ad- 
mired. 

The following poem (if the termiy 
applied to an opera may be here used) 
is partly " composed," and partly ** se- 
lected," aspiring to no higher rank than 
that of a Classical " Pasticcio" — the 
chief object of which is to collect the 
scattered passages above alluded to, in 



vu 



such a manner as to give a connected 
account of Horace and his Sabine Farm 
in his own words — and to add such de- 
scriptions and reflections as were sug- 
gested by the tour itself, and judged 
proper either to introduce or connect 
the translations. 

It was in the year 1795, that the 
author had an opportunity of indulging 
in this Poetical Pilgrimage, by an ex 
cursion from Rome to Licenza, of which 
he sent an account in a letter to a lady. 
It is more than probable, that the style 
of a letter not intended for public pe- 
rusal, is not completely adapted for it : 
yet he has preferred to leave it in its 
original dress, rather than new model 
it, or engraft upon it, that which would 
destroy the genuineness he offers as its 
apology. 

Of the sketches from which the 



Vlll 



etchings are made, the best he can say, 
is, that they were done on the spot, 
with much attention to fidelity, with a 
view to impress on his own memory, 
and to represent to those friends who 
might deem them interesting, such par- 
ticular scenes as seemed to him to cor- 
respond with the local descriptions Ho- 
race has so elegantly and forciblj^ given. 
For the sake also of fidelity, and 
partly in order to lessen the expence to 
purchasers of the book, he has attempt- 
ed the etchings himself (with the ex- 
ception of the two smallest plates) ; 
and he hopes this excuse will give him 
some claim to indulgence, where he has 
foiled in the execution . 



LIST OF PLATES, 



Plate Page 

1. Road Map, - « i v^ 

2. Grotto of Neptune, - l^Y 

3. *Tivoli and the Campagna di Roma, IS V^ 

4. Bridge and Fall of the Anio, - 58 V^ 

5. Roccagiovine, anciently Fanum Vacunasj 81 V^ 

6. Valley of Licenza, looking towards the 

Scite of the Villa Horatiana, 84^ 

7 Scite of the Villa of Vopiscus. - 175 v^ 



* This plate was accidentally damaged, and would have been 
deemed wholly unfit for publication upon any other account than 
that of the outlines having been faithfully traced from the sketch 
made upon the spot. 



ERRATA: 



Page 166 v. 1Z for drank read drunk. 
170 V. 120 for Nevius read Novius. 
209 for the marks of the grave accent, read tbose 

of the acute. 
226 line 4 /or Nor reac? Now. 
— line 16 for nor pour, readojid pour. 



East 



North 




A LETTER, &c. 



Rome, May 15, 1795. 
^ * * * * * * 

j>i* jie. He. Ai£ iik Jk. 

^ ^ T^ 51^ <1C' TS" 

I have been detained (as you will per- 
ceive by the date of this letter) much 
longer than I expected on my excur- 
sion to the Villa of Horace. This was 
chiefly owing to the weather, which 
was by no means Italian — But the num- 
ber of pleasing scenes, and interesting 
objects, that occur at every step of this 
little tour, to one Vho is fond of either 
classical antiquities, natural history, or 
landscape, infinitely overpaid me for 
this trifling mortification. 



2 

The road lies through TivoU, which 
is at the distance of about eighteen 
miles from Rome : a place, of which 
Horace speaks so often and so afFec= 
tionately, under the name of Tibur. 

May Tibur, founded by the Argive Chief, 
Be my retreat in age ; there may I rest 
At last, o'erspent with travel and with war. 

Ode 4. Book 2. 

But in order to take matters regularlj% 
I must first stop you short of Tivoli 
about two or three miles, where the 
road is crossed by a sulphureous stream, 
in smell and taste very much resem- 
bling that of Harrowgate. It flows 
with great rapidity between two steep 
banks, that have not long since been 
made to carry it off. Here my poor 
dog Turque (with whose face you are 
acquainted by Mr. Tischbein's etching 
of it) had nearly fallen a sacrifice to 
my curiosity, or as you may perhaps 



3 

call it, my levity. Being desirous to 
see how he would like bathing in a 
stream of such mauvaise odeur, I threw 
a stone in, that he might dive for it 
But he had no sooner plunged, than the 
violence of the torrent carried him 
above a hundred yards down, before 
we could overtake him, so as to give 
him any assistance : and even then, the 
banks were so exceedingly steep, that 
it was not without difficulty we suc- 
ceeded in our efforts to get him out. 

Upon tracing this stream about a 
mile upwards, we found it's source in 
the little lake, from thence called Lago 
di Solfatara.di Tivoli, which is further 
remarkable for thfe phenomena of cer- 
tain little floating islands, some of which 
were fortunately driving about in the 
wind at the time we arrived, and others 
at anchor in the bays and harbours of 



this small lake. Our guide informed 
us they would bear Christians, who very 
frequently get upon them, and push 
themselves about with a long pole for 
the amusement of strangers. 

There are remains of some ancient 
baths, which are known to have been 
frequented by Augustus; and Galen 
mentions them as being good for Rheu- 
matisms and cutaneous disorders, but 
at present they are totally abandoned. 

It is extraordinary that these springs 
not only supply water for bathing, but 
literally the materials also for building 

haths. 

It appears that they formerly over- 
flowed (as indeed they would do at 
present, if not carried- off by the chan- 
nel abovementioned) a large tract of 



land, and by their successive deposi- 
tions of the calcareous particles that 
abound in them, have, in a series of 
ages, formed immense quarries of an 
excellent stone for building, which is 
called Travertino. 

This was in great use amongst the 
Komans^ a^ appears from many of the 
ruins which remain to this day, and 
particularly from the Colosseum, or 
gre^t Amphitheatre of Vespasian, of 
which I gave you an account in a for- 
mer letter. I visited a quarry now 
working to supply materials for the new 
palace building by the pope's nephew, 
the Duke Bi^aschi, and was much pleased 
with the ocula^ demonstration of the 
gradual formation of the stone in the 
manner already mentioned. 

Near the place where this stream 
crosses the road, there is a great quan- 



- 6 

tity of a wild flowering shrub (of which 
I have forgotten the name) but in Ju- 
dea it attains to the height of a tree ; 
and it is said to have been upon one of 
this species that Judas hanged himself. 

About a mile on the other side of the 
road, lie the ruins of the enormous villa 
of Adrian ; which is said to have been 
seven miles in circumference. The 
grand scale of the fragments that still 
remain, and their distance from each 
other, make this account extremely 
probable. ^ 

The soldier s quarter is one of the 
most entire, and might still serve as 
barracks for a vast number of men. 
There are remains of two theatres in a 
great degree perfect, besides another 
adapted for the representation of naval 
combats ; the water for which was am- 



ply supplied by aqueducts from the 
neighbouring mountains. There are 
also traces of a most spacious Hippo- 
drome, and very extensive baths; in 
one or two of which, the very elegant 
stucco is still perfect. 

The number of statues that have 
been dug up here is almost incredible. 
There is hardly a grand collection in 
Rome, which has not obtained from it 
some of its principal ornaments. It 
jseems as if Adrian had collected here 
the choicest works of art, in every kind, 
and of every country ; or at least caused 
imitations to be made of them, when 
he could not get the originals. 

» 

This is clearly the case with respect 

to Egyptian antiquities ; as there is in 

the museum of the Capitol a whole 

room allotted to statues, made in imi- 



8 

tation of the Egyptian, that were dug 
up in the villa of Adrian. 

This soil is still fruitful of statues, to 
those who will be at the pains and ex- 
pence of digging for them; and it is 
not long since that Mr. Hamilton, an 
English artist who has long been set- 
tled here, found a statue of Antinous, 
which was valued at two thousand 
pounds, but sold I beheve for something 
less to his Holiness, who intends it as 
a present to his nephew. The situation 
of the villa is upon a gentle emi- 
nence that commands a distant view of 
Rome, and a very grand and pleasing 
one of the mountains on each side of 
Tivoli. 

The ground is agreeably varied, and 
the soil seems very favourable for trees. 
The air, though surrounded by the 



Campagna di Roma, is said to Idc per- 
fectly healthy. 

Returning into the high road from 
Rome to Tivoli, where it crosses the 
river by the Ponte Lucano, we find 
the ancient tomb of the Plautian fa- 
mily; which is a large round tower built 
of great blocks of Travertino. The 
cornice that runs round the top, is or- 
namented with bulVs heads, interlaced 
with festoons of flowers. There are 
also some remains of columns, &c. in 
which respect only, (mth the exception 
of being something smaller,) it differs 
from the tomb of Cecilia Metella near 
Rome. 

There is reason to suppose that the 
battlements were added by the Goths, 
who converted it into a fortress. 



10 

Soon after, we began to mount the 
side of what Horace calls the ' supine 
Tibur/ through a beautiful wood of 
olives, in which we found a quarry of 
flowering alabaster. 

We were here diverted with a lad, 
who, according to the custom of the 
country, was driving a horse, rather 
heavily laden, with stones instead of a 
whip. This enabled him to keep at a 
very respectful distance from the tail 
of the horse, who, if ever he halted, or 
turned out of the way, was sure of a 
stone's falling upon his rump so ex- 
actly in the same place, that his con- 
ductor must have practised long to ac- 
quire such dexterity. 

The town of Tivoli is wretched, dirty, 
and uninteresting in itself, but the si- 
tuation, of it is so enchanting that I am 



11 

almost inclined to join Horace in the 
preference which he gave it to all the 
places he had seen. 

After the lapse of so many ages, the 
characteristic beauties of Tivoli continue 
so exactly the same, that it is impossible 
to give you in few words a general idea 
of them, better than by a literal transla- 
tion of the poet's own words. Ode 6. 
B. 1. — " The patient Lacedsemon, and 
the fields of rich Larissa, delight me 
less than the house of the resounding 
Albunea, the headlong Anio, the grove 
of Tibur, and orchards moist with 
streams, that change their course at 
pleasure." 

» 

The house of the resounding Albu- 
nea is the chief ornament of Tivoli, 
and one of the most beautiful remains 
of antiquity. 



12 

It is a small round temple, of which 
the inner part is inclosed by a high 
wall, that (in conjunction with the ex- 
ternal colonnade) supports the roof of 
the temple. The columns are of an 
order resembling the Corinthian, and 
of exquisite beauty and workmanship : 
and the whole is so happily propor- 
tioned, as to give it an air of grandeur, 
which certainly does not result from its 
size. It is seated on the edge of a 
steep rock, full in the spray of the 
* headlong Anio.' This is the grand 
cascade, at the foot of which, the water, 
in a succession of ages, has hollowed 
grottoes of various shapes and sizes, 
that baffle every description but that of 
the pencil, to which they are most hap- 
pily adapted. 

The grotto of Neptune is the most 
celebrated; and is indeed uncommonly 



li/i, ^<J; 



13 

picturesque. Upon, or rather in the 
rock which fronts the opening of this 
grotto, are some remains, imagined by 
many people to be those of the house of 
ManUus Vopiscus, which Statius has 
described in a poem of more than a 
hundred Hnes, I have Uttle doubt how- 
ever that they are mistaken, from the 
description itself, which speaks of more 
buildings than it would have been pos- 
sible to place in a mere chasm, or (to 
use a word common in the north of 
England) Gill, between lofty and per- 
pendicular rocks. Besides, if here, it 
would have been full in the noise and 
even spray of the grand cascade; 
whereas Statius speaks of it as a place 
* where Anio, though rocky both above 
and below it, lays aside his swelling 
rage and foaming murmurs, from a fear 
of disturbing the inspired slumbers of 
Vopiscus, who was himself a poet.' 



14 

But whether situated here, or as I 
fully believe, v/here the ruins called 
Ponte Lupo are still visible, it must have 
been altogether an umqucy being built in 
two parts or pavilions, having each a 
centre and wings, on the opposite sides 
of the river : these Avere most probably 
connected with each other by the very 
bridge I have mentioned, while a tree 
groAving in the middle was preserved 
with so much care, that it's branches 
Were allowed to spread through the co- 
lumns and even the roofs of the building. 

The air of Tivoli appears to have been 
very friendly to poetry ; as many of the 
poets are known to have had country 
houses liere. That of Catullus in parti- 
cular is pointed out. But it is not impro- 
bable, that the circumstance of Msece- 
nas having a country house here, might 
have a greater share in this inspiration 
than all the natural beauties of the place. 



15 

It is precisely through the ruins of 
the palace of Maecenas, that there still 
flows one of the moveable rivulets, of 
which Horace has appeared to speak 
with so much pleasure. These streams 
are all of them diverted from the Anio 
(now the Teverone) and after watering 
the gardens, and turning the mills of the 
town, fall into the natural bed of the 
river, in the most varied and beautiful 
cascades; which, to distinguish them 
from the grand fall, are called by the 
Italian diminutive Cascatelle. 

The Grove of Tibur consists princi- 
pally of olives, the most picturesque 
trees of the kind I have seen ; and from 
the openings between them, you catch 
many fine points of view ; particularly 
one, where you see the high rock on 
which the town stands, silvered with its 
numerous cascades; and betwixt this 



16 

and the olive woods that shelve down 
to the river, the distance is filled up 
with the extent of the Campagna di 
Roma, intersected with the public road, 
and terminated by the dome of St. Pe- 
ter's. Another is from a small grotto, 
immediately overhanging the Teve- 
rone, from which you see the largest 
of the cascatelle falling in two stream^s 
upon the huge moss-grown rocks be- 
low, where it meets the main body of 
the river, which tumbles, in broken falls, 
through the contracted valley in front. 

In returning to Tivoli by another 
route, nearly parallel to the course of 
the river, through the lower part of 
' the forest of Tiburnus,' we find some 
ruins, commonly called those of the 
house of Quintilius Varus. 

There is a delightful view from hence 



17 

through the wood to the scite of Ca- 
tullus's villa, which was certainly at 
though he would not allow it to be 
upon the foot of the first Sabine moun- 
tain, on account of the contempt, in 
which Sabine rusticity appears from the 
following lines, to have been holden by 
the fashionables of his day, who fre* 
quented Tibur: — 

My Sabine or Tiburtine farm! 
Which they who would Catullus charm, 
Tiburtine call ; but they who hate, 
Will Sabine prove at any rate. 

CatuU. in fund. v. 6B5, 

Here too the larger cascatelle are just 
seen through the openings of the trees, 
while the three smaller ones, rush mur- 
muring through the, ruins of the villa 
of Maecenas, down the woody steep 
which forms the opposite bank of the 
river, and present the painter with one 
of the most picturesque objects imagi- 
c 



18 

nable, the foreground to which varies 
beautifully with every step he takes. 

But I must now quit Tivoli, which 
I believe no lover of landscape ever 
did without regret, and hasten to the 
main object of my excursion, thfe villa 
of Horace. 

The Villa of Horace was situated 
about fifteen miles from Tibur, and 
about four from the ancient Via Va- 
leria. So late as the year 1767 a 
Frenchman of the name of Chaupy 
claimed the honour of having disco- 
vered it, though the fact is, that the 
greater part of the ancient geographers 
had placed it where he does, in the 
valley of Licenza. The Abbe Domi- 
nico de Sanctis, who has exposed the 
absurdity of Chaupy's pretensions, has 
vmtten a book upon the same subject, 



19 

which is certainly in one respect bet- 
ter than his— it is shorter ; his proofs 
too are drawn from the best of autho- 
rities — the words of Horace himself. 

He sets out with shewing, that Ho- 
race had but one villa, and that in the 
part of Sabina not far from Tivoli; 
from the circumstance that though Ho- 
race is perpetually speaking of different 
places of summer resort which he fi-e- 
quented, as Tarentum, Tivoli, Baiae, 
Prseneste, &c. he never mentions his 
having any property in any other place, 
and says expressly B. 2. Ode 18. " I 
neither ask the gods for more, uor sp- 
]icit my powerful friend for greater fa- 
vours, being fully content with my Sa- 
bine farm alone." And agaifi, Ode 18, 
Book 2, 

Why should I change my Sabme vale 
For riches more opprssssive I 



20 
And to Maecenas, Ode 1. B. 5. he say^> 

Enough and more thy bounty hath enrich'd me. 

But nothing, as the Abbe observes, 
contributes so much towards finding 
out the exact part of the Sabine ter- 
ritory in which it was situated, as to 
ascertain the places near to which it 
lay ; and Horace has mentioned three : 
the ancient temple of Vacuna, Varia, 
aind Mandela. 

Varia, (to which as to the county 
town, he mentions, Epist. 14. B. 1. 
that his village used to send five heads 
of families to transact provincial busi- 
ness) preserves apparently its name 
eVeii unto this day ; Vicovaro in Ita- 
lian signifying the town of Varus, to 
whom it is probable it belonged, and 
the more so as Varus had a country 
seat so near as Tivoli. -'^ 



21 

Bardella, as appears by an inscrip- 
tion dug up about the year 1760, stands 
on the scite of the antient Mandela*. 

* The inscription (which is on marble, and was 
found in the angle, formed by the confluence of the 
Licenza and Taverone) runs literally thus— Val. 
Maxima Mater Domni predia Valeria dulcissima 
Filia quae vixit annis xxxvi. Men. ii. D. xii. in prediis 
suis MASSE MANDELANE Sep. retorum Hercules 
Quesq n pace. 

As it is impossible even for a classical scholar unac- 
customed to the initial contractions and changes of 
letters frequent among the ancients, to make sense 
of this inscription (which Chaupy infers from its stile, 
the form of the letters, and the Christian phrase of 
quiescant in pace, to have been written about the 
end of the third or the beginning of the fourth 
century) I here subjoin that which he argues with 
much ingenuity and plausibility, was intended to be 
the reading at full length viz. Valeria Maxima Do- 
tibus omnibus prsedita, Valeria dulcissima filia 
quae vixit annos 36. menses 2. dies 12. in praediis suis 
(quae voc.) Massae Mandelanae Sepulchrum restituit et 
prnavit Valerius Maxinius Hercules. Whatever may 
be thought of the sense of the inscription, the vi- 
cinity of MANDELA is fortunately established by it 
beyond all possible doubt. 



22 

This circumstance, together with the 
resemblance in sound between the 
names Digentia and Licenza, as pro- 
nounced by the natives, seems to prove 
that this is the river of which Horace 
speaks. B. 2. Sat. 6. "As often as the 
cool stream of Digentia refreshes me 
which Mandela drinks, a town wrinkled 
with cold,'' &c. Again, Horace ends 
his epistle to Fuscus, B. 1. E. 10. 
saying '' I write this to you from be- 
hind the mouldering fane of Vacuna." 

Now Varro asserts that the goddess 
Vacuna, worshipped by the Sabines, 
meant Victory : and it appears by an 
inscription found about thirty years 
agOj in digging about the ruins, com- 
monly supposed by geographers to 
have been those of the temple of Va- 
cuna, that the temple of Victory on 
that spot was rebuilt by the Emperor 



2S 

Vespasian, about a hundred years after 
the time of Horace, who speaks of it 
as in ruins.* 

Add to this that it is within an easy- 
walk of the spot upon the borders of 
the Licenza, so marked out as the farnif 
of Horace. 

If these antiquarian proofs were less 
strong, the place itself would bear no 
feeble testimony to its having been the 
seat of Horace, as there is not any one of 
the numerous descriptions he has left 
of it, to which it does not at this day 
perfectly answer. Of these I was bet- 
ter enabled to judge by reading Ho- 
race upon the spot, and it will, probably, 
as you are so fond of reading him at 

* The Inscription is Imp. Caesar Vespasianus Aug* 
Pontifex Maximus Trib. Potestatis Censor Mdem 
Victoriae Vetustate diliapsam sua im^enssi restituitJ 



24 

home, be the pleasantest method I can 
take of describing the modern appear- 
ance of the place, to refer you to his 
own descriptions of it in its ancient state. 

In the 16th Epist. Book 1. he says 
to his friend Quinctius, '' Lest you 
should ask whether my farm feeds its 
owner by tillage, or enriches him with 
olives, with orchards and pasture, or 
the elm clothed with vines — I will de- 
scribe to you at length the form and 
situation of it. 

"It is surrounded by mountains un- 
interrupted except by a shady valley : 
of which the sun rising beholds the 
right side, and warms the left with his 
retreating car. What if it produces 
kindly cornels and wild plums, while 
the oak and holm-oak delight the cattle 
with their fruit, and their master with 



25 

their shade. You would say that Ta» 
rentum itself was brought hither with 
all its groves. There is a spring fit to 
give name to a river, cooler and purer 
than which Hebrus not encircles Thrace. 
It flows useful in pains of the head 
and indigestions. These retreats, plea- 
sant, and even (if you will believe me,) 
delightful, keep me in health during 
the unwholesome hours of September/* 

Upon this text I make no further com- 
ment than to observe that all the trees 
here mentioned are found so plentifiiUy 
as to appear the spontaneous growth 
of the country, though the difference 
of culture probably has introduced such 
a number of olives, walnuts, and ches- 
nuts, that they would hardly have 
escaped the mention of so accurate a 
painter of nature as Horace, if they 
had existed so plentifully in his time. 



26 

In every other respect the situation 
answers as perfectly as if the descrip- 
tion had been just written; and the 
circumstance of the vines being raised 
on elms, continues to this day, though 
at so small a distance as Tivoli, the 
custom is universally to prop them 
upon reeds, of which they make large 
plantations for that purpose. 

The spring is not only " fit to give 
name to the stream that waters the 
valley of Licenza, but is sometimes so 
abundant as to occasion an overflow of 
the low ground which it encircles, con- 
formably to what Horace says in reck- 
oning the occupations of his bailiff, 
Ep. 14 B. 1. ''The river, after a fall 
of rain, affords an additional employ- 
ment for your idleness, to be taught at 
the expence of many a mound to spare 
the sunny meadow." 



The bailiff's complaint that /* that 
that corner of land would bear pepper 
and frankincense sooner than the 
grape," is thus far just, that the grapes 
do not succeed so kindly as the hardier 
fruit trees, and still produce that rough 
kind of wine which Horace so fre- 
quently describes. 

This was my wish ; a farm not overlargCj 
A garden, and amid the neighbouring hilk 
A fountain, and o*er these a little wood — • 
The Gods have more and better given me — 
Tis well—" Book 2nd. Sat. 6. 

In an orchard through which trickles 
the water from the neighbouring spring 
croWned with the incumbent woods of 
the Lucretilis — is found a considerable 
fragment of mosaic pavement, which 
may, with the highest degree of probabi- 
lity, be deemed a relic of the house of 
Horace. 

^he ground is all strewed with frag. 



28 

merits of various marbles, such as might 
be supposed to ornament the retreat of 
the elegant favourite of Maecenas ; at the 
same time that no massy or magnificent 
ruins remain to give the lie to his profes- 
sions of philosophic moderation. I have 
picked up some specimens which I 
hope to bring you home, and a bit of 
j^ glass, which appears much of the same 
sort with that found amongst the ruins 
of Herculaneum. 

Adjoining the vineyard is a beautiful 
little chesnut grove, at the foot of which 
winds the river I must now beg leave 
to -"call the Digentia. 

In this delightful spot, which through 
different openings of the trees presents 
almost every object worthy of note in 
the descriptions of Horace, relative to 
this place — you will readily believe I 



29 

passed a few hours very agreeably, 
without any other company than that 
of Horace. 

I had taken up my lodging at the 
house of the arch-priest, who is a Por- 
tuguese Ex-Jesuit, a very civil man and 
not ill-informed. I had the pleasiire of 
finding in his library (which by the bye 
was the only spare bed-room he had to 
offer me, and between the books and 
the bed you might set a chair, but not 
turn it) a set of Chaupy's essays upon 
the antiquities of the place, which upon 
the spot were very interesting and par- 
ticularly satisfactory as they tended to 
confirm all the reasons above stated, 
concerning the identity of the spot. 

During my stay with the arch-priest, 
I made several pilgrimages to the most 
interesting spots in the neighbourhood. 



30 

particularly to the ruins of the restored 
Temple of Vacuna, which are now only- 
known to be such by the inscription 
before mentioned to have been dug up 
there. 

As Horace says nothing more of the 
temple than that it was in a ruinous 
state, and that he wrote behind it, I 
had little more to interest my ima- 
gination than to form to myself the 
landscape, such as it probably presented 
itself to him at the time of writing, 
and hope in some degree to commu- 
nicate my idea of it to you by the help 
of a rough sketch which I made upon 
the spot. 

Upon this excursion I was unex* 
pectedly attended by two lads of th^ 
village, whose curiosity appeared to 
be so strongly excited Goncerning me, 



31 

tlijat I could not find ill my heart to 
send them away ; particularly as from 
their sprightly naivete I could scarcely 
help fancying them to be lineal de- 
scendants of the verrKj^ procaces (frolic 
hinds) whose sallies appear to have af- 
forded pleasure even to the mind of 
Horace. Upon our return we w^ere 
overtaken by a smart shower, which 
obliged us to take shelter in a hermit- 
age near the chapel of Madonna delle 
Case. The hermit was (as usual) an 
ecclesiastic; and upon my putting some 
questions to him respecting the salu- 
brity of the situation answered, we take 
** reverendissima cura della salute!" 
(a most reverend care of our health !) 
This reminded me so forcibly of Fal- 
staff's advice to the Lord Chief Justice, 
that I could not refrain from a smile, 
which I fear he thought heretically 
sarcastic, sl^ he iBamedittely addad. 



32 

(crossing himself very devoutly) '' cioe 
primo della salute deU'anima, e poi di 
quella del corpo," that is, " first of the 
soul's health, and afterwards that of 
the body." 

My visit to Fonte-bello, the source 
of the Digentia, that tumbles down a 
rocky gill of the mountain Lucretilis, 
pleased me exceedingly. I seemed to 
have found the original of the picture 
Horace has given us in the 13th Ode 
of Book 3. to the Fountain of Blan- 
dusise. 

A- regard for truth obliges me to con- 
fess, that it has been very plausibly con- 
tended by Chaupy that the Fons Blan- 
dusiae was not at the Sabine Farm, but 
in the neighbourhood of the birth-place 
of Horace. This is, however, not only 
contrary to the opinions of (I believe) 



35 

ail his commentators, but (in some de- 
gree) to the evidence of Horace himself. 
For he tells us that he did not com- 
mence poet till his paternal estate had 
been confiscated ; it is surely there- 
fore less likely that he should write an 
odcf and promise a sacrifice, to a foun- 
tain in an estate that he had lost, than 
in one that he had since acquired, and 
to whose situation he was so partial. 

Notwithstanding what I have seen 
of Chaupy's work, I had rather err 
with other geographers than think right 
with him : and thus far I acknowledge 
prejudice : but on the whole, the rea- 
sons I have given induce me to think 
that in following I dp not err with the 
multitude. 

The whole of the Lucretilis is so 
pleasant, that Faunus (vid. Ode 17. 



34 

B, 1.) could have no great loss in 
changing Lycseus for it, being now co- 
vered, as thickly as it was in the time 
of Horace, with goats that wander in 
its groves, to crop the arbutus which 
abounds there, with the same impunity. 

The epithet of " the leaning Ustica'' 
most happily distinguishes this situation 
from Tivoli, which he calls '' supine/' 
and the expression of '* valle reducta,'' 
has a propriety when applied to this 
place, which the '' withdrawing vale'* 
seems not fully to express in English, 

Ode 22. Book 1. Horace mentions 
the circumstance of his having met a 
wolf upon the mountain, when he had 
accidentally strolled beyond his bounda- 
ry — and those animals are not yet tho- 
roughly extirpated from the vast woods 
that cover the heights of the mountain. 



35 

On returning to Tivoli, I immedi- 
ately set off for Palestrina ; which Ho- 
race also speaks of by the name of "the 
cool Prseneste." 

This city was chiefly famous for the 
Temple of Fortune, which was so rich 
and magnificent, that one of the an- 
cients remarked he had never seen 
Fortune in better luck than at Prse- 
neste. 

This enormous edifice covered six 
ample and lofly terraces, that rise one 
above another upon the side of the 
hill, and are all of them still discern- 
ible. The last is occupied by a palace 
belonging to the Barberini family, and, 
as you may well imagine, commands a 
most extensive view over the rich plains 
of Palestrina, and the Campagna di 
Roma ; between which, in front, arise 



36 

the volcanic hills that embosom the 
lakes of Nemi and Albano; and on 
each side of these appears the distant 
ocean. 

The Temple of Fortune was natu- 
rally an object of the vows of the an- 
cient sailors, and my guide informed 
me with much simplicity, that they al- 
ways " fired a gun'' as soon as they 
came in sight of it. 

In this palace is preserved a mosaic 
pavement, exceedingly valuable for its 
antiquity, and the number of figures 
represented on it, which seem to be an 
^dd mixture of Greek and Egyptian. 
There is also a large armoury that fills 
several rooms, and gives the palace 
somewhat of the air of a castle in ro- 
mance. 



37 

There is little else worthy of notice 
at Palestrina, but the excavations car- 
rying on there under the directions of 
Count Bonarelli promise to disclose 
some hidden things that may reflect a 

new lustre upon this ancient city. 

****** * 

^^ '^ "^ 'fv '^ ^^ 



THE 

SABINE FARM, 

A POEM I 
PART FIRST. 

CONTAINING DESCRlFTrONS OF THE 

CAMPAGNA DI ROMA AND TIYOLI. 



THE 



SABINE FARM. 

PART FIRSt. 



Not from * the wealth of Rome,' her * smoke and 

noise,* 
For these no more Earth's fallen queen enjoys, 
But from the miracles of Art, that rise 
Endless, to tempt, and tire the dazzled eyes; 
From glittering shows, and conversations gay — S 
A never ceasing round — I steal away 
To where * behind Vacuna's mould'ring fane' 
The Sabine Poet pour'd his moral strain : 

? Fumum, et opes, strepitumque Romse. 

Hor. B. 3. O. 29. V. 12. 
? Haec tibi dictabam post fanum putre Vacunae. 

Hor. B. 1. E. 10. 



44 

And, in the very shades where he retir'd, 
Echo th' immortal verse they once inspired : 10 
Nor pass, unsung, each interesting scene, 
Whose ruins mark the classick ground between. 

But, as we leave Rome's lessening towers behind, 

How the past ages croud upon the mind ! 

As seen through History's inverted glass, 15 

We mark the distant generations pass : 

Till faint, and fainter still, the shadowy host. 

Fade gradual on our sight, and all is lost. — 

In times, thatscap'd the babbling tongue of Fame, 

Ere Rome, or elder Ihon was a name ! 20 

Times, that beheld this very soil aspire. 

In awful burst of subterraneous fire ! 

2^ The whole country about Rome is emdently of 
volcanic origin, and there are many quarries of lava, 
which must have flowed before any date of Roman 
History, as fresh as if they had flowed but yes- 
terday, while others are in an evident state of dis- 
solution. So great have been the natural as well 
as political revolutions of this most interesting coun- 
try !' 



43 

A desart horrible, of molten stone, 
Where Desolation, on her smoking throne, 
Reign'd o'er th' inhospitable waste alone! 25 
Till (after many an age had o'er it roll'd) 
The crumbling lava turn'd to fertile mould : 
While, emblematic of her future doom, 
Fate, in th' extinct volcano, cradled ROME. 
The rich Saturnian soil becoming then, 3T) 

" The mighty mother both of fruits and men," 
Gave Valour, Wisdom, Arts, and Virtue birth. 
And Rome arose " fair wonder of the earth." 

'TwAS HERE, ev'n here, the wide Tiburtine way, 
'Mid heroes' tombs, through arcs of triumph lay ! 

29. Varro says that when Rome was first built, the 
lower ground was a marshy lake, the remains of an 
extinct volcano — which may account for the story of 
Curtius leaping into the gulph, &c. See " Description 
of Latium," an elegant work, highly interesting to 
all lovers of classical antiquity. 

^^* Salve, magna parens frugum, Saturnia tellus, 
Magna virum. 

5'* The modern road to Tivoli follows the ancient 
Via Tiburtina with very little deviation. 



44 

Still, Fancy views the nations swarm along 36 
Through the proud city-gates, a vast and various 

throng I 
Some guide the wheel, some, flying steeds control. 
Some in luxurious litters idly roll : 
Part seek the town, and part, the cooling rills 40 
That winding trickle round yon airy hills ; 
While in the pomp of peace, or pride of war, 
Rome's laurell'd chiefs adorn the trophied car: 
And monarch-slaves their various tribute bring, 
To swell the triumph of the people-king. 45 

How chang'd the scene ! — where'er I turn my eye. 
The very ruins, whelm'd in ruin lie 1 

*^* The ** Campagna di Roma'* an immense flat of 
about 40 miles in diameter, is almost wholly sur- 
rounded by the Sea and the Appehines — the former 
is of course seldom visible, but the Sabine hills as 
we approach them present a very magnificent boun- 
dary, while to their left 



— — — ** the blue Soracte spires 
Wrapping his sides in tempest." 

DYER, 



45 

Save where, fit archetype of mortal change, 
The tomb's huge fragment, or the broken range. 
Of some far-stretching aqueduct, remain 50 
The " sad historians" of the Roman Plain: 
Athwart whose widely desolated span, 
" Lies, at full length, the Nothingness of man." 

Muse ! check the swelling strain— nor dare re- 
hearse 
Themes that demand a Milton's mighty verse— 
Not thine to tell, how Time's destroying mace, 
Smote the colossal empire's solid base — 
Rome's giant-image reel'd : and headlong hurl' d, 
Shakes, with its mighty fall, the liberated world. 

but (excepting occasional fragments of ruin) the 
painter will for many miles seek in vain for a fore^ 
ground^ for he will not»find even so much as a tree, 
or cottage — ^while the present scene of desolation 
is made to appear still more desolate, by the recol- 
lection of it's former populousness and fertility. 

^^' Ou, dans tout son etendu, git le Neant do 
I'homme. pe xiItLB. 



46 

Not even thine, O Muse, with fond regret, 60 
To mourn the sun of Roman glory set : 
No — sport, light insect ! in the lingering gleam 
Of splendor, which adorns his evening beam. 

Yet, of that splendor, scarce a twilight ray 
Remaining, gilds the solitary way — 6S 

Not ev'n thy baths, Agrippa ! the proud boast 
Of Albula's once hospitable coast; 
Whose self-incrusting and sulphureous tide 
At once the building and the stream supplied ! 
Still, on its milky breast, the traveller smiles 70 
( Well-pleas' d,) to view the sedge-concreted isles, 

^^' These baths which were in such repute as 
to be frequented by Augustus, (by whose name 
they are more generally known) were built of the 
stone formed by successive depositions from the in- 
undations of this sulphureous Gulf. The colosseum, 
and the principal buildings of Rome both ancient 
and modern are of the same materials. The quarries 
now working, being composed of an infinity of such 
strata, give a pleasing ocular demonstration of the 
mode of their formation. 



47 

At anchor in their rushy moorings keep, 
Or floating jostle in the stormy deep. 

Thus — if we less compare to greater things — 
(For still the British heart to Britain springs) 
Thus, on the Queen of Ocean's freighted tide, 
In guardian state, her floating bulwarks ride : 
Or, to the breath of Heav'n (their country's call) 
Obedient, rush against th' afl'righted Gaul, 
And drive his batter'd vessel on the shore, 80 
Or whelm him in the deep— to rise no more. 

'Twas this ^^ unfathomable, pale profound, 

*^ That once Albunea's matchless forest crown'd; 

'^* These exactly answer to Pliny's description of 
the Lacus Vadimonis — innatant insulae herbidae, &c. 
The middle part of the lake is so deep that all 
attempts to fathom it are said to have been hiu 
therto unsuccessful. 

* See letter page 3. 

82. Virgil could not have invented a more interest- 
ing scite for the oracle of Faunus (^n. B.8. v. 81.) 



48 

" Whose high embowering woods, with shade 

" divine, 
" WavM o'er old Faunus' venerable shrine; 85 
'' Where Latium*s anxious king enquired his 

" doom, 
'* Big with the fate of yet unfounded Rome." 
Now Rome, with all her pride, is past away^ 
Like the brief sunshine of a winter- day — 
Still the pale stream, (no longer sacred,) roars 90 
Between its self-form'd, melancholy shores ; 
And, with o'er-arching forests unimbrown'd, 
Still breathes intolerable vapour round. 
So short the boast of transitory man, 
While Nature, fix'd, pursues her everlasting 

plan. 95 

than this lake, when surrounded by a vast Forest. 
Mr. Burke considered the words " saeva Mephitis'* 
as so sublime an expression for an intolerable stink, 
that the author was almost tempted to retain it in 
his very close imitation of that fine passage, and 
tead " Breathes insupportable Mephitis round". 



49 

Yet lo ! where Hadrian's long drawn towers arise, 
Whose criant ruins still invade the skies 1 
As Satan, blasted by th' Almighty frown, 
And hurl'd to bottomless perdition down- 
Still from the burning lake his bulk uprear'd,100 
The wreck of heav'nly glory, nor appeared 
Less than Archangel ruin'd — their sublime, 
And batter'd grandeur braves the wrath of time. 
Ye awful ruins ! say, can Fancy view 
Your grandeur, nor the palace build anew, 105 
Such as when Earth's great Master bade it be. 
Of his whole subject world, the proud epitome 1 
The closing vault of yonder rifted dome 
The Gods re-enter, and confess their home. 



^o'^' He built his Tiburtine Villain a wonderful man- 
ner, and named its principal parts after the most cele- 
brated places and provinces, as the Lycaeum, Acade- 
mia, Prytaneum, Canopus, Poecile and Tempe: and 
that nothing might be omitted, even made an imitation 
of the infernal regions. — Spart. in Hadrian, 

E 



50 

Here fruitful Isis, on Canopus' strand, no 

Osiris, and the horned Ammon stand ; 
And dog Anubis guards his sable throne, 
Howling forever in the well-wrought stone. 
While every birth of monster-brooding Nile, 
Th' ichneumon small, th' enormous crocodile ;1 1 5 
With every idol shape that brain-sick fear 
Made, and ador'd in Egypt, re-appear. 

To the HiTGE CONCAVE of yon massy walls, 
The long-forgotten Naiads she recalls 



^^°- The Canopus. 

The four here mentioned were among the chief dei- 
ties of the Egyptians, whose statues have been dug up 
in this place ; Anubis is represented with the head of 
a dog. The mouth of the Nile at Canopus is supposed 
to have been imitated by a channel between the walls 
terminating in the dome here alluded to. Some are of 
opinion that Neptune was worshipped under the name 
of Canopus. 

^^ The Naumachiaj a favourite place of entertaia- 



51 

From all their mountains : on whose treasm-'d 
tide, 120 

In hostile state, th' embattled navies ride. 
The vanquish'd groan, the victors shout amain ! 
See real blood the mimic ocean stain — 
While Rome's fierce senators, with rude delight. 
And loud applause, enjoy the martial sight. 125 

Quick, Fancy ! let thy fairy footsteps rove 
Thro' mimic Tempe's visionary grove ; 



ment with the ancient Romans who carried their re- 
presentations of these naval combats so far, that the 
combatants were frequently wounded and even killed. 

^^^' The imitation of the Vale of Tem'pe must of 
course have borne a very distant resemblance to its 
archetype, for although the ground is not unpleas- 
ingly varied, yet there is nothing within the whole com- 
pass of the walls which deserves the name of a Valleif, 
particularly when compared with that 



per quae Peneus ab imo 



Effusus Pindo, spuraosis volvitur undis. 

ovie 



52 

But enter not, (or enter to upbraid 

Its massy folly) the Tartarean shade — 

For ev'n thy fairy footsteps slow appear, 130 

To visit all that merits wonder here : 

Weak, ev'n thy heav'n-taught pencil, to retrace 

The sculptur'd forms of beauty, grandeur, grace, 

That here, though sought for ages, buried lie. 

Yet unreveaPd to Taste's enquiring eye : 135 

Though, still of statues fertile, the just soil 

With sure reward excites her classic toil. 



'"^* The two long vaulted subterraneous passages 
here probably led to the Elysian fields and Tartarus pf 
Hadrian, which appear to have been an expensive ab- 
surdity unworthy of his good taste. There is however 
a modern instance of the same kind in the gardens of 
the prince of Hesse Cassel at Weissenstein. 

""* The number of statues, all excellent in their 
different kinds, that have been dug up here, is incre- 
dible ; and even now they seldom make any consider- 
able excavation without finding something. When 
these lines were written, they had just found an Anti- 
nous, for which Pius VI. was said to have given 20001. 



53 

Haste then, and while the idly-curious roam, 
O'er Bath, and Theatre, and Hippodrome; 140 
Seek t/wu the porch, adorn'd with patriot art. 
To charm the eye, and meliorate the heart. 
Where Polygnotus into figure wrought 
Each Virtue Homer sang, and Zeno taught: 
Where Marathon's bold chiefs this lesson give — 
'* The man who for his country dies, shall live 
*^ For ever." On the wings of Plato rise, 
From Academus' shade, to worlds above the skies : 
Or the great Stagyrite's Lyceum view. 
And look all sublunary nature through : 150 

^^°' There are remains of two theatres, besides im- 
mense baths, and a hippodrome, or course, for horse 
or chariot races, &c, 

> 
'^'* An imitation of the celebrated porch at Athens, 

painted by Polygnotus which gave name to the Stoic 
Sect, as the Academy did to Plato's disciples, and their 
walks in the gardens of the Lyceum to the Peripate- 
tics. To the immortal honour of the artist, it is re- 
corded that he painted it gratuitously. 



54 

Then own — that nought beneath the moon out- 
weighs 
The glorious breath of Prytanean praise. 
This Hadrian ! had thy active soul not swerv'd 
From such pure models, if/zowhadst welldeserv'd! 
But the world's master, (to himself a slave) 155 
While he the reins to lawless passion gave, 
Sees the proud monument he rais'd to Fame, 
Half hidden in the mist of endless shame. 

To these poor remnants of her palace gate, , 
How like was fair Zenobia's hapless fate, 160 
Fall'n, fall'n for ever from her high estate ! 



^'^ The Prytaneum was a tribunal of merit among 
the Athenians, and its praise accounted the highest 
possible honour. 

^^^* Zenobia was Queen of Palmyra, and maintained 
the empire of the East for a longtime against the power 
of Aurelian: at length, being taken prisoner, she was 
led in triumph, and though a very strong woman, is 
said to have stopped, declaring that she could not sup- 



55 

Now, the proud empress of th' admiring East : 
Now to adorn her Conqueror's triumph drest. 
Ah ! how couldst thou ! whose soul outshone thy 

charms, 
Supreme in arts, victorious long in arms, — 165 
Submit to bow thy yet unbended knee, 
Beneath the shining load of misery ! 
And crouching at the foot of tyrant power, 
Beg the precarious blessing of an hour. 
Not thus, thy great, rever'd LoNGiNUS taught, 
Alike sublime in action, as in thought. 

When late posterity shall see decay. 
And gradual crumble to its native clay. 



port the weight of the jewels with which she was loaded. 
Aurelian spared her life, and gave her a villa near 
Tivoli. Longinus, " himself the great sublime he 
drew," in the admirable treatise on that subject, owned 
he had assisted her with his counsel, and scorned to 
beg hig life. 



56 

Yon massy Plautian Monument— his name, 
Shall gild the column of eternal fame : 175 

Unchanged with fortune, and in fetters free. 
Who could, unmov'd, the lifted falchion see; 
And to Aurelian's victor-footstool driven. 
Unbending stand, nor ask to be forgiven. 
" This World," he cried, with his expiring 
breath, 180 

" Is the Soul's prison — her deliverer. Death." 

Muse ! finish here the much excursive Rhyme ! 
And with the real scene delighted, climb 
The swelling side of Tivoli supine. 
With olive cloath'd, and intermingling vine: 185 
While rocks of flow'ring alabaster, seen 
At openings, chequer the embow'ring green. 
'Twas on the precipice that bounds this wood. 
The palace of the great Maecenas stood* : 



''^'* See Letter pp. 9, 10. 
* See Letter, p. 17. 



57 

And still fair Anio, with obsequious tides, 190 
Beneath the proud o'er-arching ruin glides ; 
Then falls, in foamy beauty, to the plain, 
Glad to rejoin his parted streams again. 

How pleas'd, Imagination's spell recalls 
Back to these wisely hospitable walls, 195 

The Sabine bard, with all the choir sublime, 
Whose song still charms the list'ning ear of Time : 
Pleasing, and pleas'd, while care-deserting Power 
With Genius mingled in the social hour. 

While thus, enchanted, I around me see, 200 
Objects, that ages past enchanted thee — 
With rapture, Horace ! I repeat thine ode, 
That paints, with master-touch, this fair abode ! 
Nor wonder ^' Rhodes, .and all the towery train 
" Of Grecian cities, for thy praise in vain 205 



'* Quam domus Albuneae resonantis, 
Et praeceps Anio, et Tiburni lucus, et uda 
Mobilibus pomaria rivis. B. 1. O. 7. V. 12. 



58 

'^ With high Albunea's echoing temple * strove ; 
" With headlong Anio, and Tiburnus' grove ; 
^' And orchards moisten'd with the ductile rills, 
i( Whose falhng silver streaks yon tufted hills." 

Such the wish'd seat of thy declining years ! 210 
And true to Nature the fair draught appears, 
Its lovely tints unconscious of decay, 
Now twice a thousand years have roU'd away. 
Then why, sweet Poet, should the daring verse, 
A scene, the subject of thy song, rehearse ? 216 
But let me — winding through the olive-shade, 
Where once Catullus and Propertius stray' d — ■ 
Descend into the wild, and rocky glen. 
That lur'd Vopiscus* from the haunts of men ; 

* See Letter, p. 12. 

~^^ See Letter, p. 13. 

The villa which Vopiscus had here was at once so 
beautiful and singular that Statius has made the subject 
of an entire eclogue. Syl. B. 1. E. 3. 



59 

In the sweet shade of whose o'erhanging woods, 
Fair Anio joys to stay his headlong floods ; 221 
Where the whole scene of leafy verdure seems 
To plunge, and float upon his silver'd streams : 
While Zephyr I'ound, and dewy-feather'd Spray, 
Sport in eternal cool, and mock Noon's envious 
ray. 225 

Here then, in trance delicious, let me lie, 
While the kind Muses, to the mental eye. 
Bid every charm around me, rise, improv'd 
To all their favour'd Statius saw, and lov'd— 
And calPd yet unborn ages to admire ! 230 

Scenes, that to rapture wak'd his living lyre. 



This poem, which he boasts of having written in 
one day, exhibits, (as might be expected) the defects 
most frequent in that poet,, with some lines of great 
beauty. 

As it is little known to the classical, and not at all 
to the English reader, an entire traftslationof it is given 
in the appendix. 



60 

Do I behold — or does the cheated mind, 

III its own wish the fair delusion find ! 

" Yon meeting ruins bridge anew the tide ; 

** And twin pavilions grace each steepy side, 235 

" With a fair centre, and proportion'd wings : 

*' While the lov'd tree between, wide-shadowing 

springs, 
" (Fit object of its tasteful owner's care,) 
** Through roofs, and columns, to the liquid air !" 

O Paradise ! O fortunate retreat ! 240 

Where Art and Nature, in communion sweet. 
Embracing join, to bless th' unrivall'd spot! 
Art's beauteous temple overlooks the grot. 
By Nature hollo w'd in the living stone, 
Where Anio's secret fountains rise unknown; 245 
And now in greater, now in less cascades,^ 
In foamy thunder fall through pendent shades. 



*35- Stat. Syl. B. 1. Ec. 3. See Appendix. 
^'^' See Letter, p. 12. 



61 

Meads, vineyards, fruitful gardens, groves, and 

fields. 
Of every growth the all-bearing mother yields; 
Forming, in grateful change for ever new, 250 
'' One happy, rural seat, of various view," 

Painting, fair younger sister of the Muse, 
In vain brings hither her ten thousand hues, 
To fix the headlong torrents, and imprint 
Their dust-like spray, with its own rainbow tint ; 
While all the living graces of the scene, 256 
Wave on her canvas, in immortal green : 
Scene — not herlov'd Poussin, her darling Claude, 
Or bolder Rosa, could attempt, unaw'd ! 

What wonder then, that every Muse's son, 260 
From smoke, and noise, and Rome — should hither 

run ? 
In scenes so fair, what wonder Beauty rov'd, 
Till her tomb sadden'd the sweet shades she lov'd ? 



62 

BreathM for whose loss, Propertius' tuneful sighs 
Still murmur ^* Here the golden Cynthia lies." 

Nor these alone — in every age, the Good, 266 
And Great, for thee, divinest Solitude ! 
Have left the pomp and care, the noise and strife, 
And all the dull impertinence of Life. 



^^^- The mistress of Propertius, who, as we learn 
from his works, not only lived, but died here. 

Nox media est ; dominae mihi venit epistola nostras ; 
Tibure me missa jussit adesse mora ; 
Candida qua geminas ostendunt culmina turres, 
Et cadit in patulos lympha Aniena lacus. 

'Tis midnight, and a letter from my fair. 
Bids me my way to Tibur instant take ; 
Where two white turrets glitter in the air. 
And Anio falls into the spreading lake. 

ELEG. 14. lib. iii. 

Hie Tiburtina jacet aurea Cynthia terra. 

ELEG. lib. iv. V. 620» 



63 

Here Plancus* stole, from camps with banners 
bright, 270 

To thick-wrought groves unpierc'd by garish 

light : 
Here VARUSf bade the hoarse war- clarion cease. 
And harmoniz'd his soul to arts of peace. 
Embower'd in silence here, the musing sage 
ScannM with diviner thought the moral page: 275 
School'd in these scenes, VentidiusJ, (once a 

groom,) 
Rose the fit Consul of admiring Rome ! 

* I Seu te fulgentia signis 

Castra tenent : seu densa tenebit 
Tiburis umbra tui. 

HOR. Ode 8. B. 1. 

f The ruins of the villa of Quintilius Yarus which 
still remain, prove it to have* been very magnificent, 
and still give name to the neighbouring small church 
called Madonna di Quintiliolo. 

J Ventidius Bassus served under and was promoted 
by Mark Antony. The senate decreed him a triumph 



64 

Augustus here, Maecenas' guest and heir,* 
Oft from his brows unbound the glitt'ring care ; 
And left the tasteless splendors of a throne, 28© 
To call one safe, Elysian hour his own. 
Here Trajan too the charms of Nature woo'd. 
And learnt her godlike lesson — to be good ! 
Here too, ere Rome degenerate, base, and vain, 
Kiss'd ev'n a virtuous Despot's silken chain — 
The last of Romans, truly Roman, plann'd 286 
Recover'd freedom for his native land.f 
For here, on her lov'd Brutus' patriot eye. 
Shone the fair, awful form of Liberty. 



for his victory over the Parthians, in which a man went 
before his car, exclaiming " He who was once a 
groom is now a consul." 

* Augustus frequently visited him here; and to 
himhebequeatted the villa mentioned before. 

f Both Brutus and Cassius had villas at Tibur, and 
it was there the death of Caesar was determined on. 



65 

ft 

Warm in her honest cause she bade him rise, 

And, in the glorious struggle, sacrifice 

Ail private feeling to the public weal- — 

Exclaiming, as he shook his crimson'd steel, 

" O TuLLY ! Father of thy country ! see 

« The Tyrant falls, and Rome again is PU£E."300 

Bx^iTAiN, like Rome, from Brutus' Trojan sire. 
Drew the fair sparks of life, and Freedom's holy 

fire! 
Thus Milton sung — nor lightly shall the Muse 
To Milton's song her willing faith refuse. 

Blest Albion ! though less wond'rpus fair the 
smile 305 

Of Nature on thine ever-verdant isle : 
Though on thy chilly Tiburs of the North, 
.Bleak Boreas sends his ruffian offspring forth, 
To sweep their foliage, and with breath severe, 
Nip the crude promise of the niggard year — 310 



66 

Enough of Great and Fair to thee is giv'n, 
To charm^the eye, and lift the thought to Heav'n ! 
Thy colder, but thy not unkinder air, 
Wakes and rewards fair Cnlture's fruitful care: 
Braces the nobler growth of Public Mind, 315 
And fosters Freedom of perennial kind ! 
Whose Goddess-Form, inTusculum's sweetshade, 
Great Tully, with a prophet-glance"*^ surveyed ; 
Ere the fair Triple Power had local birth. 
And walk'd with man, on England's favour'd earth. 

Not yet Her Martyrs from their clouds complain, 
Nor mourn, with dying Brutus, Virtue vain. 
Not vainly Hampden, Russel, Sidney bled — 
Sweet is their rest on yon ethereal bed ! 



* Statuo esse optime conStitutam rempublioam, quae 
ex tribus generibus illis, regali, optimo, et popular! 
confusa modice, &c. 

CICERO, frag, de Republics, lib. 2. 



67 

Britons are Britons still ; and dare not yield 
The CHARTER which their patriot- blood has seal'dl 
Britons are Britons still ; revere the Throne ; 
Guard all its Rights — yet vindicate their own ! 
What though an honest, yet misguided few, 
Would Anarchy, in Freedom's garb, pursue- — 
What though Corruption's foul and venal charms, 
Allure infected numbers to her arms — 
The general heart is sound : the general cry 
Rings over ocean, " Death, or Liberty !" 
Upon his steel-girt throne, with secret fear, 330 
Gaul's bloody tyrant starts that shout to hear: 
And Europe's crouchingrealms with envy see, * 
One Monarch reigning, and One People free 



THE 

SABINE FARM, 

A POEM: 

r ; ' 

TART SECOND. 



CONTENTS. 

Introduction— Description given by Horace of his 
Sabine Farm in a letter to Quintius — ^Via Va- 
j^ERiA — VicovARo, the ancient Varia — Bar- 
DELLA, the ancient Mandela — Roccagiovine, 
the scite of the ancient Temple of Vacuna — 
Epistle dated from thence to Fuscus — Scite of the 
Villa Horatiana — Horace's own description of 
the usual way in which he passed his time there — 
his Ode of Invitation to Tyndaris — Concludes with 
his exultation in his own pre-eminence as a Lyric 
Poet — ^and his Ode to the Fountain of Blandusia« 



THE 



SABINE FARM. 

PART SECOND. 



In Tibur's scenes who would not linger long, 
That feels the love of Nature, or of Song ? 
But Horace calls us hence ; upbraids delay, 
And comes, himself, companion of our way. 
'Tis not the dream of Fancy — for I hear 5 

His own words vibrate on my charmed ear, 
While pleasure, mixt with awe, my bosom fills. 
'* Your's, o ye Nine! I mount the Sabine Hills! 



^ Vester, Camoenae ! vester in ardiios 
Tollor Sabinos ; seu mihi frigidum 
Praeneste, seu Tibur supinum 
Seu Hquidse placuere Baiae. 

HoR. O. 4, B,3, V. 21. 



74 

** Whether the cool Prseneste charm'd before, 
*' Tibur supine, or Baiae's liquid shore ! lOf 

'' O when shall I behold thee, rural seat I 
*' When, in the calm of undisturbed retreat, 
** With books, and idle hours, and soothing sleep, 
" The cares of life in sweet oblivion steep !" 

Thus, still embodied in the tuneful page, 15 
That once enraptur'd an Augustan age, 
(And shall, as long as Taste and Virtue last. 
Charm future ages, as it charm'd the past — ) 
The Poet speaks— *tis he 1 he meets my view, 
In the same form his sportive pencil drew : 20 
<' Of stature small, with locks of early grey," 
While wk and sease in his mild features play. 



1^ O rus, quando te aspiciam? quandoque licebit 
Nunc veterum libris, nunc sorano et inertibus horis, 
Ducere soUicitae jucunda oblivia vitse ? 

HoR. S.6. B.2. V.60. 



7S 

To whom I thus. Bard ! whom all tastes admire! 
Great Judge, great Master of the Laiian Lyre ! 
Thou wilt not, with fastidious pride, refuse 25 
To hold sweet converse v/ith a pilgrim -muse, 
Who seeks the spot where thou wast wont to stray. 
Seat of thy life, and subject of thy lay — 
But still be present at thy votary's side, 
Her kind companion, and her faithful guide, 30 
Pointing each object, as she moves along, 
That claims a line of thy immortal song ! 

Ah no — 'tis vain ! the brief illusion's fledj- 

And HE remingles with the mighty dead ! 

Yet still I travel in the self-same road, 35 

That saw him hasten to his lov'd abode : 

Yet still, his volume lives: whose faithful verse, 

Will kindly, frankly, as himself jcon verse : 

Will show, in all ifs many-colour'd strife. 

His various talents, and his varied life — 40 

On pulse now supping in his Sabine Grove ; 

Now quaffing nectar with ** Rome's earthly Jove ;" 



76 

Now, prompt to make keen Satire smile; now, 

blend 
Th' accomplish'd critic with the polish'd friend ; 
Now, bidding Friendship, Love, or Virtue, fire 
The breathings of his grace-attemper'd lyre. 46 

Then, ere the real scene the senses charm. 
Let his own numbers paint his Sabine Farm. 
Tjhou, Horace! Art my guide — the letter see. 
To Q.U1NT1US written — open lies for me, 50 

** Lest you should ask, dear QuiNTius ! does the 

soil 
" With corn support you, or enrich with oil, 
" With fruits, or meads, or vine-clad elms ? the 

verse 
*' Loquacious, shall its form and scite rchear^:e. 

^'- See Horace, B. L E. 16. from v. L to v 16, 



77 

" Uninterrupted mountains fill the scette, SS 
" Save where a shady valley sinks between : 
" Whose right the beam of rising Phoebus feels ; 
** Whose left is warm'd by his declining wheels. 
" You needs must praise the climate : what if 

there 
** Each bush, wild plums, and ruddy cornels bear? 
" If oaks, and holm oaks^ grateful to the sight, 
" The herd with food, their lord with shade der 

light? 
" So leafy is the scene, that you might swear 
'' Tarentum's self, with all its groves, were there. 
" A spring, whose name might well a river 

grace^ 65 

** (More cool and pure, not Hebrus circles Thrace) 
** To head-ach and digestion useful flows — 
** Such my lov'd seat of leisure and repose, 
*' Whose sweet, nay trust me, ev'n *iielicious 

bowers, 
** Yield health a shelter in September hours." 70 



78 

'Twas ever thus. True, uncorrapted Taste, 
Laughs at vain Pleasure's artificial waste : 
For Beauty, loveliest when to Use allied, 
Bids the fair seated farm " eclipse the garden's 

pride." 
In bowers to health thus sacred, and the Muse, 
His lingering friend Maecenas might excuse, 76 
** Though scarce a week he promis'd him to stay, 
" Yet loitering moons beheld him still away." 

But the Valerian Way our sfeps demands, 
From TiBUR leading to the Marsian lands. 80 



'^» Quinque dies tibi poUicitus me rure futurum, 
Sextilem totum mendax desideror. 

B. 1. E.7.V.L 

^^' Via V^eria a Tibure incipit, ducitque in Marsos. 

Strabo. 



79 

And lo ! fair Vauia's spires, and tm-rets white. 
Stealing through tufted trees upon the sight. 
Blush with the ruddy morning's orient light. 

'Twas here " thy Hamlet" Horace ! " us'd to send 
" Five honest sires her meetings to attend." 85 
Me thinks I see the guileless fathers meet, 
And with a smile unforc'd their poet-chieftain 
greet. 

How fair a vale this winding stream divides ; 
Which proudly still yon ruin'd arch bestrides I 
While convent chapels crest th' incumbent stone, 
To rites devoted — then to RoYhe unknown. 91 



habitatum quinque fools et 



Quinque bonos solitum Variam dimittere Patrest 

HoR. B. I, E. 14. 

^°' The convent of St. Cosimato, most romantically 
situated upon a perpendicular rock overhanging the 
Teverone, and the ruins of a bridge and aqueduct. 



80 

But here, what shallower current spreading laves 
Bardella's airy slopes with rippling waves ? 

It is, it is " Digentja" I behold, 
*« Drunk b^ Mandela, wrinkled with the cold," 
Come, let me quafF thee, cool, delicious streatn, 
At once the Bard's inspirer, and his theme ! 

O holy Nature ! Thou, whose beauties pure. 
For ever varying, ever still endure ! 
If e'er thy Fair-Sublime, unreach'd by art, 100 
In verse, or picture, touch'd my boyish hearty 
Ere yet my firmer feet were free to go, 
Hound England's lakes, or Alps' eternal snow : 
If, with increasing love, those scenes I trod. 
And, in thy face, ador'd the smile of God 105 



^^ Me quoties reficit gelidus Digentia rivus, 
'.l^iiiiem. Mandela bibit, rugosus frigore pagus. 

Hor, B, 1. E. 18. V. 104* 



81 

Not dimly visible to mortal sight, 

By the reflected beams of uncreated light — 

Npw give my raptur'd spirit to behold 

Each charm that won thy Sabine Bard of old, 

To blazon thee in his immortal page, 110 

Like thee unconscious of decaying age ! 

Say then, with dwellings crown'd, what rocky 

steep 
Is this, o'er which yon azure mountains peep ; 
While vine-hung elms, in profitable pride, 
Grace its huge feet, and shade its swelling side ? 

'Twas near that rocky steep, embower'd in wood. 
The mould'ring Temple of Vacuna stood-^ 



»»'?. Hac tibi dictabam post Fanum putre Vacunse, 
Hor. B. 1. E. 10. V. 49. 

See {ilsothe first 25 lines of the same epistle. 

G 



82 

Slretch'd in whose grateful shadow, Horace 

penn'd 
This free epistle to his absent friend. 

" Fuscus ! we lovers of the rural vale, 120 

^* Bid thee, the lover of the city, hail ! 
" In almost all things else our minds appear 
" Like two fond twins, and only differ here : 
" What one dislikes, the other disapproves, 
*' Agreeing mutual like a pair of doves. 125 

" Thou keep'st the nest : I Nature's beauties own, 
" The woods, and streams, and rocks with moss 

overgrown : 
" I live, and reign, when from those scenes I fly, 
" ExtolPd by you, and Fashion, to the sky. 

** But if to live as Nature wills be right, i3o 

" If, ere we build our house, we seek a scite — 
" What but the happy countfy claims our care? 
" Where pinches winter less ? what kindlier air 



83 

«* The Dog-star's rage, the Lion's heat allays, 
*' When furious he receives the solar blaze ? 135 
" Say, where doth Care less envious haunt the 

night ? 
" Say, doth earth's flow'ry carpet less delight 
** Than Libyan pavements, both the smell and 

sight ? 
" Doth purer water burst in town the lead, 
" Than that which trickles down the steepy bed 
** Of murmuring rivulets ? The grove we raise^ 
** Ev'n in our many-pillar'd courts ; and praise 
" The house that opens to the distant hill : 
*' Nature, howe'er expell'd, is Nature still : 
" And still, by force, or stealth, returns again, 
** Triumphant over our absurd disdain. 146 

" Whom wealth too much delights, its loss will 

« harm : 
" None quits, unmov'd, what has the power to 

" charm. 




84 

Then greatness shun ; with friendship in the 
" cot, 
*< The poor is blest beyond the monarch's lot."15d 

Lead me, ye Muses ! to the very scite, 
Once made the mansion of such pure delight. 

Lo ! the sweet knoll, whose trees of various green,^ 
Half hide, and half admit the circling scene ; J 
While, at the foot of it's o'erhanging groves, 15^ 
With dove-like miiirmur coolDigentia roves; 
Whose broad, and winding bed of pebbles white, 
Seems a wide river to the stranger's sight. 
Which parts him from the wooded mountains 

round, ^^^ 

And yon fair conic hii/s with hamlets croWn'd— 
Did not a thousand proofs around appear, 161 
imagination's self would fix it here. 



85 

'TWAS HERE, " Diana's consecrated pine, 
" Did o'er the villa's modest Pile incline, 
" Alike from pomp, and sordid ruin, free ; 16S 
« The abode of Golden Mediocrity I" 

Here then, O shade of Horace! let me kneel. 
And kiss those fragments with a pilgrim-zeal ! 
Yet not to thee, great poet ! not to thee, 
(Much honour'd as thou art,) I bend the knee-^ 
But unto Him, whose all-inspiring power 171 
Alike inform'd the poet, and the bower ; 
Whose still-unceasing influence can give 
The bower to blossom, and the lay to live : 



lej. ' Diva triformis ! 

Imminens villae tua pinus esto. 

. HoR. O. 22. B. 3. V. 4. 

»««. Auream quisquis mediocritatem 
Diligit, tutus caret obsoleti 
Sordibus tecti ; caret invidenda, 
Sobrius aula. 

O. 10, B. 2. V. 4. 



86 

And with a spark of the same fire divine, 115 
That once inspired thy bosom — ^kindle mine ! 

Not that my fond -presuming hopes aspire 

To touch thy sweet, inimitable lyre — 

Bat that to woods, vales, mountains, rocks, and 

streams. 
Once the fair prompters of thy fairest dreams, 180 
I, like thyself, from city -haunts repair. 
The world's vain pleasures, and it's vainer care; 
(Like thee, in these sweet shades embow'rd,) to find 
That something more than Muse — an equal mind. 
As here I sit, and with no transport vain, 185 
Ev'n where 'twas written, reatl thy moral strain. 

" This was mt wish — of land a smaller plot ; 
" A spring perpetual running near my cot ; 



Hoc erat in votis ; modus agri non ita magnus ; 
Hortus ubj, et tecto vicinus jugis aquae fons 



87 

** A garden, and with these a Jittlc wood — ■ 

" But the Gods more and better gave — 'tis good! 

" Nor will I weary heaven to swell my store, 1 9 1 

^' Nor from my powerful friend solicit more. 

" What should I gain ? (for he would grant my 

" prayer) 
'* To yoke more oxen to the shining share ? 
" Bid my white villa neighbour Circe^s wall, 195 
*^ On Tusculum's fair top ; eclipsing all ? 



Et paulum sylvae super his foret auctius atque 
Di melius fecere : bene est. 

HoR. S. 6. B. 2.V. 1, 



Nihil supra 



Decs lacesso, nee potentem amicum 

Largiora flagito. 

Satis beatus unicis Sabinis. 

Non ut juvencis illigata pluribus 
Aratra nitantur meis. 

W ^ T^ y^ ^ W 

Nee ut supemi villa candens Tusculi 

Circsea tangat moenia. £pod. 1. v. 25. 



88 

*^ Ah why, on columns proud, that draw the eyes 
" Of envy, bid nevv-modeird courts arise ? 
'* Ah why exchange tny Sabine vale so fair, 
*' For more oppressive opulence, and care? 200 
*' Oh nights and banquets of the gods! when 

" met, 
" Around the table I and mine are set! 
" When, mixt with herbs, Pythagoras kindred 

bean, 
*' EnrichM with bacon, on my board is seen ! 
** In sight of my own proper Lar I eat, 20* 

** And give to my gay hinds the tasted meat. 



^^ Cur invidendis postibus, et novo 
Sublime ritu moliar atrium ? 
Cur|valle permutem Sabina 
Divitias operosiores ? 

*°^' O noctes, ccenaeque Deum ! &c. 

HoR. S. 6. B. 2. V. eS—lS. 

^°^" It seems from this, and other similar passages, 
that in the country houses of the ancient Romans, the 
Lares, or household gods, were usually placed over 



89 

" Free from mad laws of drinking, every guest, 

<'. Fills his unequal cup as he likes best: 

" If his strong head the purer goblet suit ; 

** Or he the genial grape more pleas'd dilute. 

" No scandal here of other folks we tell, 

" Nor ask if Lepos dances ill or well — 

" But what concerns us more: what all should 

know : 
** Which can the greater bliss on man bestow ; 
" Riches, or virtue : if, in chusing friends, 215 
" Honour, or interest should form our ends : 



the chimney piece, in the hall where the whole fa- 
mily met together at meals : the master and his 
guests (probably) at one table, and his servants and 
workmen, the " Ditis examen domus." (Epod. 2.V, 
65) either at another table, or, " positi circum reni- 
dentes lares" seated round the hearth ; as is still the 
custom with some of our own rich farmers of the 
old school. The evenings which Bloomfield (in his 
poemof jthe Farmer's Boy) describes himself to have 
passed in the family of Mr. Austin, will bear no de- 
grading comparison with those of Horace at his Sa- 
bine farm. 



90 

" What is the nature, rightl}^ understood, 
*' And what the greatest of all human good : 
'* While to each theme, if argument should fail, 
" My neighbour Cervius fits some good old tale.'* 
How nature triumphs, Horace, in this sweet. 
And touching picture of thy lov'd retreat ! 
Sees thee forsake the great Maecenas board, 

With every sumptuous delicacy stor'd ; 
Though at that sumptuous table wont to find, 225 
The greatest, and the brightest of mankind — 
And like a plain good farmer, whom no pride. 
And false refinement from his hinds divide, 
On the same food with thy pleas'd rustics fare, 
And with thy rural friends the feast of reason 
share. 230 

Since thus fled evening, let the numbers say, 
What toil, or pastime, wore the livelong day ? 



*3^» Silvas inter reptare salubres, 

Curantem quicquid dignura sapiente bonoque est. 



91 

«« In silence creeping through the healthful wood, 
<« I con the duties of the wise and good : 
" My bliss, with evil eye, by none is seen, 
" Nor poison'd with th' insidious bite of spleen. 
« Sometimes I shovel clods and stones : the while, 
<* My neighbours mark my efforts with a smile : 
" Or with my friends, the festive hours I pass, 
** Stretch'd careless on the soft, sequester'd 
grass — 240 



^5'* Non istic obliquo oculo mea commoda quisquam 
Limat, non odio obscure morsuque venenat: 
Rident vicini glebas et saxa moventem. 

Ep. 14. B. 1. V. 37. 

*39. ., in remote gramine per dies 

Festos reclinatum bearis 
Interiore nota Falerni: 
Qua pinus ingens, altaque populus 
Umbram hospitalem consociare amant 
Ramis, et obliquo laborat 
Lympha fugax trepidare rivo. 



" Where the t^ll popl^-r* and gigantic pine, 

*^ Their hospitable sh^de delighted twine 

'* With ®ieeting;arn9s : while, with obstructed 

force, 
** The swift brook trenables in its slanting course. 
*' Bring wines, bring odours hither! and repose, 
" On the too short-liv'd flowers of the delicious 

rose. 246 

*' Thou too, the grace of Phoebus ! dear to Jove, 
" Supreme of gods, amid the feasts above ! 
** Sweet soother of my cares, enchanting lyre! 
" Puly invok'd, wilt aidxnylond desire, 250 
" And to the covert of thkbappy grove, 
** Allure, with this soft strain, my absent Love 1" 

Hue vina, et unguenta, et nimium breves, 
Flores amcenae jube ferre rosae. 

3ook2. OdeS. V. 6. 

*^' O decus Phoebi^ et dapibus supremi 
Grata testudo Jp^yis^ ^O jahorum 
Dulce lenimqja, i^iihi cunque ^alve 
Rite vocanti. 

Book 1. Ode 32. V. IS. 



93 

Swift footed Faunus oft delights, 

Lur'd by a sceiie like this, 
To change Lycoeus' airy heights 355 

For ssveet Lucretius, 
And guard the goats that range my bovver, 

From fiery sun, and storrny shower. 

The consorts of the scented spouse, 

Oe'r the safie forest stray^ 260 

The hidden arbutus to browze. 

Or thyme. Their devious way, 
As choice inclines, seculre they take : 

For here no green and gilded snake — 

No martial wolf, in this retreat, 265 

Their folded young alarms. 
A pipe, O Tyndaris ! so sweet, 

Reclin'd Ustica fchamrs 5 



*"• Book 1. Ode 17. 



94 

While all her shelving vales around, 

And smooth, light echoing rocks resound. 270 

Me heaven defends : to heaven my muse, 

My piety is dear : 
Nor smiling plenty shall refuse 

For thee, my fairest! here. 
With overflowing horn to pour 

The wealth of every rural store. 275 

Here shun, in this deep val'd retreat, 

The dog-star: and the string 
Of Teos' lyre attemper sweet, 

Penelope to sing, 
And Circe, frail as fair — with grief 280 

Both pining for one absent chief. 

Quaff here, embow'r'd^ the goblet free, 

Of harmless Lesbian wine : 
Bacchus, gay son of Semele, 

With Mars will ne'er incline. 



95 

In bloody strife to mingle here ; 

Nor thou, sweet girl ! have cause to fear 

That jealous Cyrus should intrude, 

(In too unequal fray) 
To rend, ungovernably rude, 290 

With lawless hand away. 
The myrtle wreath that binds thy hair, 

And ev'n thy guiltless garment tear ! 

Yes — with a pilgrim's pleasure, fancy notes. 
In yon smooth rocks, " the cavern of the goats." 
Beside each gurgling rill, beneath each tree, 
Fancy beholds thy Tyndaris and thee — 
While lock'd in thy fond arm, the smiling fair 
Doubles each pleasure which she came to share : 
Whether ye wander on, from charm to charm, 300 
O'er the fair precincts of thy various farm, 
Or seek the shade of yon umbrageous grove, 
Alike devoted to the Muse — and Love ! 



96 

How blBSt (exclaims the poet) thus to live ! 
"How greatt the safety innocence can give ! 305 
" Here, ^s of late, beyond my proper bound, 
*' Scarce knowing where I went, I strolPd around 
" The Sabine wild, and caroll'd, free from care, 
** My sweetly speaking, sweetly smiling Fair— 
** From me unarm' d, a Wolf spontaneous fled, 
** More huge than e'er fierce Daunia's forests 

bred! 311 

" Nor here alone the rural powers bestow 
** Unseen protection, but where'er I go. 
** Friend to these tuneful choirs, and murmuring 

springs, 
" Me, nor Philippis' battle-routed wings, 315 



30'* Integer vitae, seelerisque purus, 

Non eget, &c. Book 1. Ode 22. V. 1* 

^°<' Namque me Sylva Lupus in Sabina. 

Bookl. Ode 22. V. 9. etseq. 

l^^* Vestris amicum fontibus et choris 
Kon me FhHippi versus acies retro; 



97 

<' Nor PalinuruSj with tempestuous wave, 

<^ Nor the devoted tree, to death untimely gave I 

" Me though no shouts of triumph lift to Fame, 
*^ The champion victor of an Isthmian game : 
^' What though in Grecian car no generous horse 
" Shall draw me conqu'ring in the glorious 
course: 321 

*' Though Rome's proud Capitol shall never show 
** My laurell'd head, for hostile kings laid low — 
'* Yet the sweet stream, that hence to Tibur roves, 
** And the thick tresses of o'erhanging groves, 
" My name ennoble with /Eolian song ! . 326 
" While all men hail me, as 1 w^lk along, 

Devota non extinxit arbos ; 
Nee Sicula Palinuriis unda. 

Book 3. Ode 22. V. 25. 

*^f» Ilium non labor Isthmius 
Clarabit pugilem, &c. 

B. 4. Ode 3. V. 2. et seq. 



M 

'' The prince, and father of the Roman lyre — 
*^ Which thus shall hymn the fount, that could 
it's strains inspire* 

Blandusian fount! whose streams surpass 330* 
The lucid brilliancy of glass I 
O worthy of the richest wine. 

And every sacred rite ! 
To morrow shall be thine 

A kid, with flowrets dight j 33Jf-- 

— *» — . ^ — — — - 

^°* O Fons Blandusiae, splendidior vitro ; 
Dulci digne mero ! non sine floribus 
Cras donaberis hoedo ; &c. Book 3, Ode 15. 

Thus pointed, the sentence will bear the construction 
given to it in the text ; which seems more conformable 
than the common one, to the elegant usage of the an- 
cients, " who crowned their victims of the lesser sort 
with the leaves of that tree, which the deity was 
thought most to delight in, for whom the sacriffce was 
idesigned.'* See Kenneths Antic^uities of Rome. B. 2*^ 



99 

Whose budding horns give promise fair^ 
Of future wars to be his share. 
And future loves : alas ! in vain-;— 

The herd's lascivious brood, 
To-morrov^r shall di stain 340 

Thy gelid rills with blood. 

Thee, the Dogstar*s burning power 
Affects not, at his fiercest hour : 
To thee the faint, o'er labourM ox, 

Yet panting from the share ; 
To thee the wandering flocks, 

For grateful cool repair. 

Amid the noblest springs, thy name * 

The Muse shall elevate to Fame — 

While I rehearse th' utifading oak, $5^ 

That crowns the shady steep ; 
Down from whose clefted rock, 

Thy babbling waters leap. 



THE 

SABINE FARM, 

A POEM I 

PART THIRD. 
_,_ ^ 



CONTENTS. 

Introduction— Vexation of Horace when oblige^ 
to go to Rome as a surety — the envy and trouble^ 
some solicitation he experienced there as the fa- 
vourite of Maecenas — ridiculed on account of hii 
birth — ^his first introduction to Maecenas — his fa- 
ther's care of his education — ^Iiis private life at 
Rome— character of himself as a satirist — various 
interruptions to his poetical pursuits — ordered to 
► Velia for his health — his return to Rome — poetical 
invitation to Torquatus — to Virgil — to M^ce- 
NAS — character of himself as a philosopher. — 
epistle to his bailiff — Rome unfavourable t© his phi- 
losophical studies— resumes them with joy at his 
Sabine Farm — general review of the character of 
Horace — instances of the love of retirement in 
our own Poets — Pope — Gray — Shenstone — • 
Mason — Cowper—^Thomson and Miltqn — C<?n- 
elusion, 



THE 



SABINE FARM, 

PART THIRD. 



Hail, Moderation ! thou, whose placid smile 
Can half the cares of human life beguile I 
Amid the fairest virtues fitly seen, 
Grave Prudence, lion-Fortitude between ! 
Mother of sweet Content, and rosy Health ! j 
Thy golden mean 'twixt poverty and wealth, 
Justly to favoured Horace didst thou give. 
Who lovM on thy *' convenient food" to five. 



^'Moderation is (perhaps) the best term our lan- 
guage affords for one of the four cardinal virtues, ( Gr. 
rw9poc7:;v>r, Lat. Teoiperantia, ) which is very inade- 
quately exprei^sed in English by the word Temperance* 



106 

He, whom thine own, and nature's hliss could 

charm, 
And " the sure promise of his Sabine Farm — 10 
** Lord of the wealth he scorn'd, more truly 

shone, 
*' Than if he glitter'don rich Afric's throne, 
'^ And caird eacli Libyan storehouse all hi$ 



But Eden is no more — Man is not made. 

To sit for ever in the sweetest shade : 1^ 

There is a social joy, a social care. 

Which every child of woman ought to share : 

This Horace felt : and in its proper sphere. 

Held every tie of social life most dear 1 



"^^' Purae rivus acjuse, sylvaque jugerum 
Paucorum, et segetis certa fides meae, 
Fulgentem imperio fertilis Africse 
Failit, sorte beatior. 

Book 3. Ode 16. V, 29. 



107 

Yet still, those pleasures o'er, those duties paid. 
Fled with fresh joy to this delightful shade/' 2t 

But not in this delightful shade alone. 

Did he thy power, blest Moderation ! own — 

Thy hand protected ev'n hjs city-life, 

From pining envy, and ambitious strife. 25 

Yet oft, when forc'd this quiet scene to leave 

For city ^. care ; the Poet-sage would grieve, 

In words like these — 

" How do I curse my doom, 
*' When hated bus'ness drags me back to Rome ! 
*' But T must be a surety. Hence, away 1 30 
" Let no one earlier friendship's call obey ! 
" Whether the north wind sweep the earth, or 

snow ' 
** Contract day's wintry circle, 1 must go f 



^: Via, Hor. S^t, 6. Book 2. V. 23. et eeq. 



108 

" There having spoken clearly, and aloud, 

" What I may one day rue — must pierce the 
crowd ; 34 

" Must elbow those more slow; who turn and 
swear : 

'' What wouldst thou, madman? what is thine af- 
fair ? 

*'Dost think to drive before thee all the street, 
'' That thou in time may thy M^cenas meet ? 
*' Those words, (I own) delight me-— on I fare ; 40 
'' But when I reach Esquilias's mournful square, 
*' A hundred cares of others thronging round, 
'' Beset me, and my aching head confound. 
'^ Ptoscius intreats you to appear at eight 44 
** In court to morrow— begs you wont be late : 



^^» On the Esquiline hill there was a place of buriaJ 
for criminals. 



109 

** On a new great affair of common right, 
" The clerks intreat you to return to night : 
" That great Maecenas may affix his seal 
*^ Upon these papers, use your friendly zeal : 
** I answer, I'll endeavour — if you will, 50 

** I'm sure you can> he cries, and urges still/" 

The modern favourite of a friend in place, 
In thine may read his own unhappy case ! 
Then, Horace! let the faithful verse unfold 
The plagues that waited favourites of old — -55 
Make the whole progress of thy miseries known — 

^' Scarce had Maecenas rank'd me with his own, 
'< So far as one whom he might condescend 
" To carry in his chaise, an humble friend ; 

^"'^ The registers or secretaries, of whom it appears 
that Horace was one. 

^' Swift's admirable imitation of this passage is in 
Ihe true style of the original. 



no 

** With whom to chat", on trifles, such ^s these-— 
" What is the hour ? does Thracia's champion 

please 6Jy 

«* As much as Syrus ? we had need beware 
« Of colds already from the morning air— - 
« And all such nothings, as without a fear, 
«« May be confided to a leaky ear — 65 

<♦ When all the while, each day, each hour, I grew 
*' Still more obnoxious to the envious crew. 
•* My friend and I at ball in public play'd, 
" Together view'd the games : all cry, his fortune 

's made ! 
* Whatever idle rumour fills the street, 70 

*' Thus I'm attack'd by every man I meet-^ 
" Come^ tell us, Horace ! for t/^u needs mmt 

know, 
*^ fYou who approach our deities below) 



Two famous gladiators^* 



Ill 

^ What of the Dacians have you lately heard ^ 
*' Nothing. You're always joking. Not a word^ 
** No, not one syllable, so help me heaven ! 
*« But tell us, Horace ! will the farms be given, 
•< Which Ca3sar promisM to his conqu'ring 

bands, 
** In the Italian, or Sicilian lands ? 
" I swear I know not — say whate'er 1 can, 8<l 
"I am a wond'rous close, and silent man ! 
« Thus, thus the day is lost — I sigh in vain, 
^* And wish me at my Sabine Farm again !'* 

** Mean while, all flout me, of a freedman born, 

'And seek * the Freedm^n's Son' to laugh to 

scorn. 8S_ 



^\ The Romans were then at war with the Dacians—* 
and Augustus was about to fulfil his engagement of as- 
signing lands to the soldiers after the battle of Philippi* 

*^ Via. Hor. Sat. 6. Book 1, V. 4. et seq. 



112 

** What can the cause of all this malice be f 
" 'Tis plain, Mascenas 1 Now 1 live with thee 
** Ev'n thus it was^ long since ; when Tribune 

made, 
" A Roman legion my command obey'd. 
" But the case differs. Envy might pretend 90 
"M}- honours undeserved, but not my friend — • 
** Nice as thou art to single those approv'd, 
** And from corrupt ambition far remov'd. 
** Therefore myself Viot fortunate I deem ; 
*' Since for the happiness of your esteem, 95 
" I thank not fortune — as I am, to you 
** Lov'd Virgil spoke of me, and Varius too* 
" Few words, when first I to your presence came, 
'* 1 tremblingly pronounc'd ; for tongue-tied 

shame 
" Forbade to utter more : did not pretend, loa 
• From a right noble father to descend. 



113 

'' Or, mounted on a Satureian horse, 
*^ Around my large estates to take my course — 
** But what I was, related. Briefly Thou, 
** As usual, answer'dst, and I made my bow. 105 
" Nor, until nine months after, didst thou send 
** Thine order to enroll myself thy friend. 
*^ I glory to have won thy grace, (who art 
** So skiird to set the good and base apart,) 
" Not by my noble birth — but a pure life and 
heart." 110 

Oh pleasing contest 'twixt thy lord and thee. 
For the fair palm of true nobility ! 
'Twixt thee, whose virtue won his wary love, 
And him, who all vain pride of rank above, 
Stoop'd from his seat patrician, to embrace 115 
Genius and worth, though of plebeian race. 



'°^* Satureum was a district near Tarentum famous 
for its breed of horses. 

I 



114 

But (if no lineal honours were thy share) 
Thy talents own'd no common parent's care — 
Beneath whose ever-watchful eye, thy youth 
*' Imbib'd with bosom pure, the voice of truth :" 
Poor as he was, who nobly scorn'd the fear. 
That sense, and virtue, could bebought too dear: 
Nor car'd what gold he left his son behind, 
Could he but gift him with the wealth of mind ! 
Nor mean the blessing to be humbly born, 125 
For thee — who smiPd at the vain sneer of scorn, 
And with more real comfort lov'd to live. 
Than wealth and senatorial rank can give: 
Unnotic'd lov'd through bustling crouds to steal. 
And eat, in lonely peace, thy frugal meal, 1 30 
Unshaken by the whirl of fortune's giddy wheel. 



^^^' The care which the father of Horace took of his 
education, and the affectionate gratitude of the son, 
are so honourable to both, that the author has been in- 
duced to give a translation of the passages which relate 
to this subject at full length in the appendix, together 
with the detail of the Poet's private life at Rome. 



115 

In such calm moments, Horace ! snatch'd from 

strife, 
And tumult, in the lap of city-life, 
Leisure awhile was thine : the haunts of men, 
Supplied eternal matter for thy pen— 135 

O let not then th' ingenuous verse refuse, 
To speak the city-progress of thy Muse. 

" What though no mighty scribbler I appear, 
*^ (A single parchment lasts me half a year) 
*' Yet do 1 sport, at many an idle time, 140 

" In free effusion of satiric rhyme— 

^^^* Sic raro scribis, ut toto non quater anno 

Membranam poscas — Sat. 3. Book 2. V. 1 . 

The Romans were accustomed to make the fair 
copies of their writings upon parchment — in this quo- 
tation Damisippus is introduced as objecting to Ho- 
race that he seldom made any such, but spent his time 
in correcting what he had merely written with the 
style, or point, upon waxen tablets ; which could be 
easily effaced and rewritten. 

14°. ubi quid datur oti 

Illudo chartis. Sat. 4. Book 1. 



116 

** My verse scarce smoother than Lucilius chose 
" As ^ fittest for discourse, and nearest prose.' 
" He to his books, as to a faithful friend, 
" Would every secret that he had commend: 145 
" Nor, whether good, or ill, he chanced to find, 
*' Sought elsewhere to discharge his burden'd 

mind. 
** Hence his works seem, (through all it's varying 

strife) 
'* A votive picture of the old man's life. 
^^ Him do I follow, with no servile zeal, 130 

" But mark his faults, although his worth I feel — - 
" Whose genius, rushing with the torrent's force, 
*' Mud, like the torrent, gather'd in it's course. 

^*3» Sermoni propriora. Sat. 4. Book 1. V. 41. 

'*'• Hie velut fidis arcana sodalibus olim 
Credebat libris — quo fit ut omnis 
Votiva pateat veluti descripta labella 
Vita sen is. Sequor hunc — 

Sat. 1. Book 2. V. SO, 



ijp. 



'•• Vid. Sat. 10. Book 1. V, 1. 



117 

*' Yet much that flow of wit the ruder age 

" Admir'd, indulgent to his motle3^page. 155 

" But though in wit beneath him, as estate, 

" Envy must own, like him, I live among the 

great: 
" And while the great and good applaud the 

strain, 
" (Like him), let knaves and blockheads snarl in 

vain. 



*^^' At dixi fluere hunc lutulentum, saepe ferentem 
Plura idem toUenda relinquendis. 

Sat. 10. Book 1, V. 50. 



at idem quod sale multo 



Urbem defricuit, charta laudatur eadem. 

Sat. 10. Book 1. V.3. 



quamvis 



Infra Lucili censum, ingeniumque ; tamen me 
Cum magnis vixisse fatebitur — 

Sat. 1. Book 2. V. 74 



118 

" To Virtue only, and her friends a friend, 160 
" Rogues, high or low, he fear'd not to oflfend : 
** But stript the screaming victim of his skin, 
" So fair without, so very foul within. 
" Yet since ingenious ridicule will gain 
** More frequent converts than a serious strain — 
^* / tell the truth, but tell it with a smile, 166 
*' And wound no mortal living with my style 



*^^. Primores populi arribuit, populumque tributim ; 
Scilicet uni sequus Virtuti, atque ejus amicis. 

Sat. 1. Book 2. V. 69. 

'^2» Detrahere et pellem, nitidus qua quisque perora 
Cederet, introrsum turpis. 

Sat. 1. Book 2. V. 64. 

^^4* ■ II Ridiculum acri 

Fortius et melius magnas pleruraque secat res. 

Sat. 10. Book. 1. V. 14?. 

*66. Ridentem dicere verum 

Quid vetat I Sat. 1. Book 1. V. 24. 



•Sed hie stylus non petit ultro 



Quemquam animantem — -^ at ille 



119 

*^ Who wounds not me : if so, he weeps it long, 
** Made " the sad burthen of some merry song." 

" But since not ev'n a private man Uke me 170 
*' Can here be long from interruption free — 
*' Amid the toils and cares my usual doom, 
" How is it possible to write at Rome ? 
*' This calls his bondman ; and the other prays 
*' rd put all business off, to hear his lays : 175 
" On the Quirinal hill this friend of mine 
" Besides, and that, on farthest Aventine: 
** Both I must visit, and you plainly see 
" What an inhuman interval for me ! 
" The streets, (you say), are clear; and there is 
nought 180 

*' To check the progress of poetic thought — 



Qui me commovit 

Flebit, et insignis tota c antabitur urbe. 

Sat. 1. Book 2. V. 39, 

■^* Epist. 2. Book 2. V. 65-^79. 



120 

'^ Some master builder, in a furious heat, 

'^ With mules, and porters at each turn I meet ; 

" Now the huge stone, or mighty beam is seen, 

" O'er my head dangling in a vast machine: 185 

" Stout waggons struggle with the mournful bier : 

" There runs a dirty sow, a mad dog here ! 

" Go then, and meditate thy tuneful song — 

" While every one of the poetic throng 

'* {True friend to Bacchus), shade and slumber 

'Moves, 190 

*' And from the city flies to fields and groves. 
"'' Thus to my Sabine Farm my heart from town 
" Springs back, and longs to beat th' opposing 

^' barrier down ! 

" In vain—Antonius, quite another way, 

*^ To Velia, or Salernum bids me stray! 195 

192. ]y[g tamen isthuc mens animusque 

Fert, et amat spatiis obstantia rumpere claustra. 

Ep. U. B. 1. V. 8. 

'9^- Vid. Epist. 15. Book 1. V. 1—24^. 



121 

" My horse must learn to pass, (ne'er passM be- 

" fore) 
^' The road to Baige, useful now no more : 
" But the affronted city sure will mourn 
" Her myrtle groves, her warm sulphureous urn, 
** By me neglected for the gelid wave, 200 

'' In which amid the winter snows f lave. 
" And yet, the vineyards of that southern coast 
*' Can little to detain my footsteps boast. 
" Though I can all things suffer, all endure, 
" At my own farm — near sea, I would procure 
" A wine more generous, of more genial kind, 
*' That, rich with hope, into my veins, and mind 
'^ May flow ; my cares expel, inspire my tongue, 
" And make the fair Lucanian think me young. 
" Nor less would I enquire, which favour'd shore 
" More plenteous yieMs the hare, or savoury 

* ' boar : 

Antonius Musa was a Roman physician of the first 
eminence, who advised Horace to use the cold instead 
of the hot bath for a nervous disorder. 



122 

*' Which seas a greater store of fish contain, 
•* Or the dehcious hed":e-hosr of the main : 
" That when my tour is ended, I ma}- come, 
*« Quite plump, and a Phceacian, back to Rome.** 

Then, Horace ! thou wert pleas'd to quit the 
shore, 216 

And taste the luxuries of Rome once more ! 
Spite of thy ruling passion for the shade, 
I marvel not, that thou, by nature made 
With a heart prone to friendship, love, and wine, 
Shouldst oft to social city-scenes incline ; 
Where by the gay alike, and great, appro v'd, 
By the wise honoured, by the fair belovM — 



*^'' The echinus esculentus or sea-hedge-hog, was 
esteemed by the ancients a great delicacy. 

The Phaeacians were inhabitants of the island Cor- 
cyra subject to Alcinousa and proverbially idle and lux- 
vuri&us. 



123 

Thou needs must long once more to be the guest 
Of all thy friends ; thy friends in turn to feast I 
Yet mindful of the frog, which fables tell. 
Strove to an ox's size herself to swell- — 
Whene'er the great with thee vouchsaf'd to dine. 
Thou treatedst, not on their own scale, but thine. 
Didst thou TORQUATUS to thy house invite ? 230 
Thus did the Muse her invitation write — 
** If you can deign on an old-fashion'd bed 
" To lie recumbent, nor a supper dread 
" Of various pot herbs, in no ample plate— 
" At home Torquatus, 1 thy coming wait, 
*^ With the last sun-beam. I will give my guest 
" Wine, in the second year of Taurus prest, 



22<s- Vid. Sat. 3. Book 2. V. 314. 

'3'- Vid. Epist. 5, Book 1, V. 1—9. and V. 21—32. 

^^^* The Romans used to mark their wines with the 



124 

" Where, oe'r Minturnae's marshes, to the skies 

** Petrinus' Sinuessan heights arise. 

" If you have better, bring it — or attend, 240 

** Contented, to the summons which I send. 

" Give to your airy hopes a little pause, 

** And quit the strife of wealth, and Moschus* 

*' cause — 
"While I, as well becomes me, nothing loth, 
*' Nor yet unskill'd, take care no dirty cloth, 245 
" No cover foul, shall wrinkle up the nose : 
" While every dish, and every flaggon, shews 
" The guest his image — that no babler here, 
*' Amid this social group of friends sincere, 
** Shall carry o'er the threshold what is said : 250 
*' That each, by equal inclination led. 



name of the consul in whose year it was made. This 
wine, which Horace promises Torquatus, was neither 
of superior quality, (being made in the marshes of Min? 
turnae,) nor old ; being made when Taurus was consul 
the second time. 



125 

*' Shall meet his equal ; I shall chuse for you, 

*' Septimius, Brutus, and Sabinus too, 

** Unless a prior feast, or lovelier fair, 

" Detain him hence : there will be room to spare, 

*' For several others, but the goat's perfume 

*' Annoys the banquet of a crouded room, 

i< Write back how many you would meet, nor late 

** Escape your client by the postern' gate." 

Thus to Torquatus. But would Horace send 260 
To Virgil, his belov'd, and equal friend, 
Thus did the freer invitation burst — 

" The season's self, my friend ! inspires with 

'' thirst. 
" Client of noble youths, if now thy mind 
" To draw Calenian Bacclius be inclin'd, 265 

^5 Vid, Ode 12. Book ^ V. 13—28. 



126 

" With nard it may be earn'd : it will but ask 

" One little box of nard to lure the cask 

" Out of Sulpitius' vault, which then shall ope 

*' Its treasure, prodigal of youthful hope, 

«« And potent to dissolve the bitter care— 270 

<• But if these joys allure, be quick the price to 

** bear, 
« For think not, I, as when a rich man sups, 
** Can freely steep thee in such costly cups. 
«« Cast off all love of gain, all dull delay ; 
'* Of funeral flames yet mindful, while you may; 
" And mix short folly with the serious aim — 276 
" Sweet the delirium wisdom cannot blame I" 

If, with esteem and gratitude possest, 

Horace ! you sought Maecenas for your guest — 



^*^' The nard was a rich ointment of which the prin- 
cipal ingredients were drawn from an Indian shrub of 
that name, and was usually carried in an onyx hol- 
lowed for the purpose. 



127 

You did not, by a vain expence, pretend 280 
Your entertainuient worthy of your friend. 
But would in terms like these his presence crave, 
To taste the produce of the soil he gave. 

** Offspring of Tyrrhene kings ! for thee the rose 
*' Is gathered, and the precious unguent flows. 
*' So grateful to the wealthy change has been, 
** That under humble roof, the supper clean, 
** Ungrac'd with crimson canopy of state, 
" Has oft relax'd from care the forehead of the 

" great. 
^' Cheap Sabine thou shalt drink in moderate 

*' flask, 290 

'' Which I myself confined in Grecian cask, 
*' My dear, and noble friend ! that very year 
" Thou heard'st th' applauses of the theatre, 



^''- Vid. Ode 29. Book 3. V. 1—5. and V. 13—17. 
''''* Ode 20 Book L 



128 

" While wanton Vaticanian echo sweet, 
'^ And Tiber's banks, tliy praise delighted to re- 
*'peat! 295 

" To quaff Coecubian, and the generous vine 
" That groans in the Calenian press, 'tis thine— 
** My humbler cup no grape Falernian fills, 
" Nor the rich produce of theFormian hills!" 

It is not, Horace ! every Poet's fate, 300 

With ease like thine to live among the great ! 
But every prudent, moderated mind. 
Will much true comfort ev'n in cities find. 
But town we said, ill suits the man of verse — 
And for the grave philosopher 'tis worse ! 305 
Scarce the cold blooded Stoic's heart, we see. 
Is proof against seducing luxury — 

*' A sleek, fat hog, (I hear thee, Horace ! cry — ) 
" Of Epicurus herd, what wonder then that/. 



31^0. Me pinguem et nitidum bene curata cute — 
Cum ridere voles, Epicuri de grege porcum. 

Epist. 4. Book!. V.I5. 



129 

*' Couch'd at the glittering tables of the great, 
*' And mine eyes dazzled with their gorgeous 

"plate, 311 

*^ Should praise their pomp, and feel my wavering 

" mind 

** To the false shew of happiness inclin'd ? 
" 'Tis true, when no where bidden as a guest, 
*^ I swear that I am happier, than if drest 3 1 5 
^* For some great supper : wholesome pulse com- 
mend j 
*< But should Maecenas on a sudden send 
^^ An invitation^ bawl for oil, and shout 
** Be quick, will no one hear ? and hurry out 



^'°* — - inter lances, mensasque nitentes. 
Cum stupet insanis acies fulgoribus, et cum 
Acclinis falsis animus meliora recusat. 

Sat. 2. Book 2. V.4. 
31^- Vid. Sat. 7. Book 2. V. 29—37. 
^^* The ancients were accustomed to perfume them- 
K 



130 

** While the buffoons, and Milvius, many a curse 
" Departing utter, too uncouth for verse. 32*1 

<* Now tir'd of trifling, trifles I discard, 
^* And truth, and decency alone regard : 
"And wholly bent on these, compose and write, 
" That which a future day may bring to light. 325 

** But, if you bid me name my guide and school ; 
** I own infallible no master's rule — 
** Now, active plunge in waves of civil strife, 
"The watchman, and strict guard, of truly vir- 

*' tuous life, 
**Now, borne upon the unresisted tide, 330 
" I back to Aristippus precepts glides- 



selves with fragrant oils before they went into com- 
pany. 

^^\ Vid. Epist. 1. Book L V, n»-26. 



131 

** No more myself to circumstances fit, 
** But circumstances to myself submit. 
** As night, to those who for a mistress stay — 
*' Seems long ; to debtors at their work, the day : 
** As heavy drags to orphan girls the year, 336 
" Beneath a step-dame's custody severe — 
*' Slow and ungrateful pass those hours away, 
" Which still my purpose, still my hope delay, 
** With energy that moral work to end, S40 

" Which rich and poor will equally befriend : 
" Or, if neglected, with the vengeance due, 
" Both old and young will equally pursue. 
*' While, forc'd to linger in these haunts of care, 
*^ And folly, for my Sabine vale's free air 345 
" I pine — and thus address my bailiff there, 

^* Each with our separate lot alike at strife, 

" You loath the country, I the city life — 

** But with like folly, each, in either case, 

** Unjustly lays the blame upon the place ; 350 



132 

" While both the cause of discontent might find 
" In that which never leaves itself — the mind. 
*^ How didst thou once, a kitchen slave in town, 
" Long to be carried to the country down ! 354 
" How dost thou now, a country -balifF, long 
** For baths, and games, and for the city throng. 
** More constant to myself, thou never yet 
" Saw'st me the country quit without regret^— 
" Where thou canst nought but rude lone desarts 

*• see, 
*^ In scenes that charm the man who thinks with 

"me, 360 

" And hates what is so dearly priz'd by thee. 
«* For 'tis the greasy cook-shop, and the stew, 
*« That cause such yearnings for the town in you. 
" 'Tis, that as soon yon little nook of mine 
" Would frankincense or pepper yield, as wine ; 
*^ No tavern near; no harlot- minstrel found, 366 
*« To whose shrill pipe thy thick heels shake th« 

<' ground* 



133 

" And yet thou hast, to exercise thy care 
" A virgin soil, unconscious of the share: 
*<_Th' unharness' d ox to tend : his crib to fill 370 
«^ With gather'd leaves : meantime th' overflowing 

'' rill 
*« Affords thy sloth fresh work, if rains succeed, 
'* Taught by thick mounds to spare the sunny 

*' mead. 
*' Now hear, wherein our tastes are not the same — 
** Me, whom thin gowns and shining hair became, 
^' Who pleas'd, (the fact is not unknown to thee) 
" Rapacious Cynara without a fee : 
'* Who sipt Falernian while the sun was high — 
" Short suppers please, and by a stream to lie 
" On grass reposing : nor do I regret, 380 

**T' have trifled once, but that I trifle yet. 

** How oft, alas! my fluctuating mind, 

** This way and that, by fits and starts inclin'd, 

^8-' quid, mea cum pugnat sententia secum. 

Quod petiit, spernit ; repetit quod nuper omisi^ 



134 

" At variance with itself, by a breath turnMj 
"Spurns what it sought, and follows what it 
" spurn'd : 385 

" Rages, in life's whole plan discordant found, 
''Pulls down, builds up, and changes square for 



* 'While all the p!agues of Rome I sang, and more, 
" Run the same tedious round they ran before : 
** While busy knaves, and bustling fools, a throng 
''Hostile alike for wisdom, and to song, 391 
" Teize me each day, and sometimes all day long! 
" Till by Apollo sav'd — I break my chain, 
^' And hasten to my Sabine Farm again. 



^stuat, et vitse disconvenit ordine toto % 
Diruit, sedificat, mutat quadrata rotundis? 

^^\ For a truly comic, though perhaps somewhat 
overcharged representation of a character of this 
description. See Sat. 9. of Book 1. of which an en- 
tire translation is given in the appendix. 



135 

"O with what joy the woods and fields once more 
" I view, which Horace to himself restore. 396 

" Here then, refreshed by cool Digentia's rill, 
" What is my prayer? that Heaven would grant 

me still, 
** To keep the present good, nay even less : 
" But to myself my life, or long, or short possess. 
*^ A moderate store of books and wealth to save, 
" Lest Hope float doubtful, a dependent slave 
*' Upon the passing hour — Enough, to pray 
** For these to Jove, who gives and takes away 1 
*' Let him give life, and health ; myself will find 
*' That first of blessings, a contented mind ! 
" Yet grant me, Phoebus! with that mind entire, 
'' Age not unhonour'd, nor without the lyre." 

Thus sang the bard, by the sweet stream that still 
Leaps from the rocky bosom of the hill. 



- 156 

O'er canopied with oaks, whose branching green 
Scarce the bright eye of noon can pierce between; 
Most worthy of his muse ! wi,o could not sing, 
A cooler, purer, or a shadier spring !« 
Full often, Horace ! wouldst tliou here recline, 
And read Lucilius' verse, as I read thine ! 
Or, to the loftier notes of Pindar's lyre. 
Awake the rival muse, of temper'd fire; 
Who with a « studied happiness" of tongue, 
And grace, unknown to the Bgeotian, sung! 

Poet of Heason, hail! whose critic force. 
Guides, but not checks the muse's winged horse' 
To wed instruction grave with fairdelio-ht- 
And steer by Reason Fancy's boldest flight— 
Thine easy, sprightly verse, more fully shows 
Than ev'n the Stagyrite's methodic prose. 



* See letter page 32. 



137 

To this, « thy leafy citadel"* retired 
From all the follies which thy scorn inspir'd : 
Satire thou bad'st, with less ungentle aim, 
Not scold, but smile those follies into shame ; 
Nor blush'd the manners-painting muse, t* impart 
The foibles — with the virtues of thy heart ! 

Horace ! I thank that unaffected verse, 
Which deigns so much, so frankly to rehearse — 
As through the window of the hive we see 
The seat, life, labours of the honied bee ; 
Thy song, (that window of thy breast,) has shown 
To our not vainly curious eyes — thine own ! 

Q could I fondly hope that verse of mine 
Might in a British accent echo thine — 

' ■■ ' ■ ■ > ' ' ■ ■ ', 

* Ubi me in montes et in arcem ex urbe removi, 
Quid prius illustrera satiris musaque pedestri ? 

Sat. 6. Book 2. V, 16. 



138 

Fain would my voice the pleasing strain prolongs, 
And to my country's ear reverberate the song : 
Thy moral song : which bids ev'n Virtue charm 
With added grace : and turns thy Sabine Farm 
To a wild paradise: whose peaceful bowers 
Outshine th' imperial city's smoky towers : 
Where Pomp, and Luxury, and Pleasure feel, 
Care, Pain, and Envy, tread their restless heel. 

For who can doubt— all^ionour'd as thou wert, 
Though fame and favour follow*d thy desert; 
Though welcom'd to the bosom and the board. 
Of great Maecenas, and his greater lord; 
Though not unwont from busy Rome to stray, 
To the proud Baths of thy luxurious day ; 
Where pleasure with a waste of splendour shone, 
Ev'n to this age of splendid waste unknown—. 
O who can doubt, the moments of thy life 
Most truly West, were stolen from the strife 



139 

And various bustle of the city throng, 

And pass'd in this sweet shade, with solitude and 

song ! 
Here from each harlot-blandishment of Art, 
Which snar'd too oft your good, but easy heart -^ 
To Nature's simple pleasures unreprov'd, 
You fled — and practis'd here that virtue which 

you lov'd. 

Horace ! not less hath Albion's poet-throng, 
Retirement deem'd the nurse of moral song ! 

Pope — like thyself in fortune, taste, and powers, 
Like thee, to city-pomp preferred his rural 

bowers. 
What though no Sabine mountains rise to bound 
The rich, and peopled plain, that spreads around 
Augusta's countless towers; where Commerce 

spies 
With joy, his thronging masts in forests risie: 



140 

PieasM he retir'd, where Thames beholds with 

pride, 
Twick'nam's white villas gem his verdant side; 
Where, at Art's potent call, the wondering shade 
Obedient rose, and form'd a forest glade : 
While Taste's nice hand supplied the sparry grot 
Which Nature, charm'd with her own work, for- 
got. 
Here the blest bard, apart from sordid views, 
Walk'd hand in hand with Friendship, and the 

Muse : 
While from this honour'd shade, his laurell'd 

head, 
Or smil'd, or frown' d prevailing folly dead. 



Nor less, high-lhoughted Gray (who smote the 

Lyre, 
With Horace' graceful art, and Pindar's fire) 
Like Horace, joy'd to rove the mountain-scene, 
Far from the haunts and busy hum of men — 



t 



141 

Pleas'd to behold the giant ISkiddaw shroud 
His ample forehead in a night of cloud : 
Or, through his rifted rocks, the vast Lodoar 
Hurl the white headlong thunder : at whose roar 
Trembles the bosom of the silver lake : 
While all her island groves, and echoing moun- 
tains shake. 

Full of these scenes sublime, the lofty bard 
Beheld, O Shenstone ! with too cold regard, 
Thy simply ornamented farm ; where Art 
Borrow'd fair Nature's charms to touch the heart 
As Juno, with the belt of Venus, strove 
(Not vainly) to attract her haughty Jove. 

Sweet, yet ill-fated Bard ! to memory dear, 
Full oft the grateful tribute of a tear. 
From the bright eye of pitying beautj^, flows 
O'er the soft record of thy tender woes ! 



142 

I sigh to think, that ornamented farm, 

Which taught our landscape-gardens how to 

charm ; 
(Gardens, that since have spread from place to 

place, • 

In sweet contagion, culture's fairest grace,) — 
Could bid its shrubs no healing balm impart, 
To heal the anguish of a broken heart. 

Imagination sees the poet rove 
Th' Elysian scene he learnt on earth to love — 
Then join with lighter step the shadowy throng. 
Pleas' d with the grateful notes of Mason's song. 

Mason ! the rule, and pattern of that art. 
Nature's sweet mimic, which his lays impart — 
Bidding each English garden henceforth be, 
Fair as Elysium, and as England free. 



143 

Lamented Cowper ! can the rural muse 

A fond, though fruitless tear, to thee refuse ? 

Had not the daemon, Melancholy, prest 

(In horror's heaviest form) thy guiltless breast — 

Thy verse, that pleasing portrait of thy mind. 

Grand, though minute ; though simple, yet re- 

fin'd ; 
Perchance had shown us, in thy wondrous Task, 
All the true critic hopes, but dares not ask ! 
Still the sweet song could aid thee to endure, 
And sooth'd the woe, it fail'd, alas ! to 

cure. 

Pleas'd we behold thee, where, in better days, 

Ouse loiter'd as he listen'd to thy lays : 

In whose unvarnish'd painting. Nature seems 

Reflected, clear as in his crystal streams. 
» 

Not all the pomps of London's thronging mart. 
Her domes, her theatres, her works of art ; 



144 

Her splendid routs, which the firm pavement jar, 
With the loud knocker, and the whirling car; 
Nor song, nor dance which vacant youth rejoice ; 
Nor graver lust of wealth and power, the voice 
Of Nature in thy feeling heart could drown : 
" God made the country," and " Man made the 

town" — 
Thou saidst ; and from each lure by folly laid, 
Fledst with the Muse and Virtue to the shade. 

Not the bright suns of an Italian clime 
Ee'r riper.'d verse more various, sweet, sublime. 
Than Thomson's ; while his Muse, (as yet ob- 
scure) 
Trod Winter's virgin snows — himself as pure ! 
Him Nature led through Scotia's fair domain 
Of wood, lake, mountain, river, vale and plain : 
Taught him green Summer's glowing charms to 
* sing ; 



145 

The fruits of Autumn, and the flowers of Spring— 
And snatch a varying plume from every Season's 
wing. 

Shall I dare name thee, milton ! xvho may name 

Milton, in numbers equal to his fame ? 

What though an envious darkness quench'd thine 

eyes. 
Thy mighty mind " was it's own Paradise ;" 
Revolving all the forms of great and fair 
By Genius, Travel, Study treasured there — 
Darkling, beside the nectar-brooks it stray'd 
That A^isit Eden's flowers : nor felt dismay'd 
To wing hell's deepest horrors ; wide display 
The courts of heav'n ; and climb the starry way 
To God's own throne : while silent with amaze, 
Archangels on a mortal seraph gaze : 
And pause a moment from eternal praise — 
Then, to new rapture, wake the song divine 
From all their golden harps, in unison with thine. 



146 

Such are retirement's pleasures : such the views 
Of those with her who commune, and the Musre. 

Then deem not, Man ! the various beauty found 
Scatter'd by Nature's hand this earth around, 
Was made to sooth mere Bards' and Painters' 

dreams 
With groves and grottoes, flowers and falhng 

streams : / 

Not to delight thine ej/e alone design'd — 
But touch, and calm, and elevate thy wzVz^// 
While Virtue, still improving, learns to trace 
Her Maker's image in fair Nature's face : 
Beholds, o'er all his works, th' Omniscient shower 
Beneficence, unbounded as his Power : 
And rapt upon Love's seraph pinion soars, 
To imitate th' All-Perfect she adores ! 



APPENDIX, 



N^- I. 

TRANSLATION OF THE NINTH SATIRE OF HORACE, 
BOOK I. 

N« II. 

TRANSLATIONS FROM HORACE, DESCRIBING HIS FA- 
THER'S CARE OF HIS EDUCATION, AND HIS PRl- 
VATE LIFE AT ROME. 



NO III. 

TRANSLATION OF THE TIBURTINE VILLA OF VOPISCUS 
FROM STATIUS. 



NO- IV. 

MISCELLANEOUS ODES, FROM HORACE, 



APPENDIX. 



No^ I. 

TRANSLATION OF THE NINTH SATIRE OB" HORACE, 
BOOK !. 



APPENDIX. 



NO- I. 

TRANSLATION OF THE NINTH SATIEE OF HORACE, 
BOOK I. 



A MAN came up to me the other day, 

As I was taking in the sacred way 

My usual stroll, quite lost in reverie — 

And though (except by name) unknown to me. 

Seizing my hand — Dear Horace ! how d'ye do ? 5 

Well — and with every good wish to you. 

As he still follow' d — wquld you aught with me? 

Better acquaintance ; I am learn'd, quoth He : 



152 

The more to be esteem^, I, bowing say — 
(Longing most wretchedly to slip away) 10 

Sometimes 1 faster walk, sometimes draw near. 
And seem to whisper in my Lacquey's ear : 
As to my very heel down flows the sweat— 
Bollanus, happy blockhead ! I repeat 
In silence : He, meanwhile, in ceaseless chat, 15 
Praises the streets, the city, and all that— 
I without answer let him still run on : 
I see you want most sadly to be gone. 
He cried ; 'tis vain, for by your side I'll stay, 
Or follow still ; but whither lies your way ? 20 
There is no need to take you round : I go 
To visit some one whom you do not know : 
Far hence, near Caesar's gardens^ he resides. 
And Tiber's stream the tedious way divides. 
I am not lazy ; I have nought to do ; 2^ 

And go where'er you will, Fii follow you, 
I drop my ears like a tir'd ass, whose back 
Feels the fresh burden of another pack. 



153 

He then — if rightly of myself I deem, 

You would not Viscus' friendship more esteem. 

Nor V^arius' more : For who can verses write, 31 

Or more, or faster ? who can move more light 

His graceful limbs ? and when I tune the string, 

Hermogenes might envy what I sing. 

Have you, (some room to speak was left me here) 

Mother, or kin to whom your life is dear? 

Not one— I've buried ail. Oh they are blest \ 

Now I remain — be quick, and give me rest. 

For now alas I th' impending fate I mourn, 

My Sabine nurse from the divining urn 40 

Drew forth, and sung prophetic — Him, no harm 

From poison dire shall kill, nor hostile arm. 



■•O' The Sabine women were particularly famous for 
divination, which was performed by putting various 
letters and words into an urn, and if on being drawn 
or thrown out promiscuously they formed any applica- 
ble sentence it was considered as prophetic. 



154 



45 



50 



Kor pleurisy, nor cough, nor lingering gout I 
But some eternal Talker shall wear out 1 
Therefore, as soon as he becomes a man 
Let him avoid all babblers while he can. 
Now Vesta's temple we had reach'd at last. 
The fourth part of the day already past ; 
And he was bound by surety to the laws. 
In court to answer, or must lose his cause : 
Now,.if you love me, just appear in court — 
Hang me, if law I know, or can a plea support--- 
I haste too, you know where — I doubt said He, 
Which of the two to leave — my cause, or Thee, 
Me, by all means. Not I — then strides before : 55 
I, since to struggle with a conqueror 
Is hopeless, follow. On what terms said He, 
Continuing, is Maecenas now with Thee ; 
A man of great good sense, who sees but few ; 
None e'er to use his fortune better knew. 60 



155 

Heav'ns ! what an able second I should be, 
Were I but introduc'd : we soon should see, 
That every one would bedismiss'd for Thee. 
We live not with him in the way you deem — 
There is no house more pure in my esteem, 65 
Nor from all evils of that sort more free: 
None because richer, wiser, injures me. 
Each has his place. 'Tis wondrous, what you say, 
And I can scarce believe it. But you may. 
With added eagerness my mind you fire 70 

T' approach him. 'Tis sufficient to desire : 
For worth like your's will overcome with ease 
All obstacles-— nor is he hard to please; 
And therefore of men's first approaches shy. 
I'll not be wanting to myself; I'll try 7$ 

To bribe his servants : if repuls'd to day, 
I'll not give up : I'll seek him when I may : 
I'll meet, and dog him in the street. By heaven 
No good to mortals without toil is given. 



156 

While thus he rattles, a dear friend to me^ 
Fuscus, comes up, (who knew him thoroughly) 
We stop. Whence come you ? where d'ye go r 

he cries. 
And answers. While I nod, and wink my eyes. 
And pluck and grasp his shrinking arms, that He 
Might find some fair excuse to set me free — SS 
He with malicious fun, dissembling smil'd : 
While I, half choak'd, with silent choler boiled. 
Something in secret sure you had to say. 
Yes — ^but ril tell it you some other day : 
This is the thirtieth sabbath : and would you ^0 
Thus chuse t' affront the circumcised Jew.^ 
I am not superstitious, I reply — 
But you'll excuse—- if (one of many) I 



^ Fuscus with much humour takes advantage of the 
circumstance of its being a great Jewish sabbath, to 
excuse himself from entering upon the secret business 
which Horace pretended to have with him, in order 
to get rid of Bollanus. 



157 

Should feel more scrupulous : I must have done. 
That ever I should see so black a Sun ! S5 

The rogue flies, leaving me beneath the knife. 
It chanc'd the plaintiff in Bollanus* strife 
Met us, and shouted, scoundrel ! are you here ! 
Sir, will you witness ? I present mine ear — 
He drags him into court : the people hollow ; 100 
A mob collects : I thus, was rescued by Apollo, 



^* It was a custom among the Romans to touch 
die ear of the person who was called in as a witness— 
and Horace presented his ear to shew his readiness 
to comply with the plaintiiF's request. 

*°'- This may allude either to Apollo's patronage of 
Mm as a poet ; or to the circumstance taking place m 
the ** forum August!" where there was an ivory statue 
oi Apollo m the place where justice was administered. 



APPENDIX. 



NO II. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM HORACE, DESCRIBING HIS FA- 
THER'S CARE OF HIS EDUCATION, AND HIS PRf- 
VATE LIFE AT ROME. 



APPENDIX. 



NO II. 

TRANSLATIONS FROM HORACE, DESCRIBING HIS FA- 
THER'S CARE OF HIS EDUCATION, AND HIS PRI- 
VATE LIFE AT ROME, 

If but a few and venial faults disgrace 
*' My mind, like moles upon a beauteous face : 
*^ If me no tongue of avarice can accuse, 
*^ Crossness of manners, or the filthy stews . 
" If pure and innocent, (myself to praise,) 5 
" And by my friends belov'd, I pass my days— 
*' My father was the cause ; who would not deign^ 
*^ (Though his lean farm could scarce himself 
maintain) 

M 



162 

" I should to Flavius' country school be sent, 

*' Where the great boys of great centurions 

went; 10 

^* But boldly brought his child to Rome ; t'impart 
** The rudiments of every liberal art, 
^* A knight or senator could teach his own — 
*' Whoe'er in public saw me, by my gown, 
" And following slaves, would think a charge so 

great is 

^' Sprung from the produce of an old estate. 
" Meanwhile, himself, an uncorrupted guide, 
*' Was present still at every teacher's side : 
*' And — (what is deem'd the height of virtuous 

fame) 
**\In short, preserv'd me, by ingenuous shame, 20 
^' Not only safe from all committed wrong, 
" But ev'n from the attack of Scandal's tongue, 
«« Nor fear'd he any one might blame his pains, 
" If I should seek a cryer's humble gains, 



163 

** Or turn like him, collector— were it so, 25 
<* Should I have felt the least resentment ? No — 
** But greater now the praise, and gratitude I owe. 

" Instead of tedious lectures drawn from school, 
" He made th' example of each vice the rule. 
" Frugal and sparing would he teach to live, 30 
" Content with that which he himself could give? 
" Do you not see how vilely Alhius' son, 
" And needy Barrus live ? hence learn to shun 
" Their fault, nor through your patrimony run. 
" To warn me from a strumpet's shameful love 35 
** He cried, ah never like Sectanus prove ! 



*^* There seems to be some doubt about the exact 
nature of this office : whether he was a collector of 
the monies arising from the sale of goods by auction, 
or from the public taxes, irt which latter sense it is 
understood by the author of the concise life of Horace 
attributed to Suetonius. 

=^'. Satire 4th. Book 1. V. 105— 137. 



164 

" Thus too he warn'd me from th' adulterous 

dame: 
" Trebonius caught — obtains no envied fame. 
*' The wise can better tell the reasons why 
*^ Evil and good to seek, or shun, than I — 40 
** To keep the customs of our sires the same 
** As handed down, and guard thy life and fame, 
** Long as they need my guardian care engage, 
*« Is all I wish : but when inaturcr age 
** Strengthens thy mind, and every full grown 

limb, 45^ 

** Then without corks thou hast my leave to swim. 

« So fashion' d he my youth with skilful hand : 
" And if he would some virtuous act command, 
«* One of the chosen j udges held to view — 
" Here boy, is your example, this to do. 50 

*^ Would he forbid me aught, what doubt, my 

" son, 
*< If this be base, or useless to be done I 



165 

" You hear of this, and that man, what is said— 
<^ Ev'n as a neighbour's funeral strikes with dread 
*< The greedy patient, frighten'd out of breath, 
<* And makes him temperate, through the fear of 
death : ^6 

^ The foul reproach of others, oft, we find, 
** Jrom evil will affright the tender mind. 

*^ Hence free from every grosser vice I live, 
*' My foibles such as candour may forgive : 60 
** Ev'n these, perhaps, I may yet farther mend 
" Through mine own counsel, or an honest friend* 
" For, whether my lone couch I press, or go 
*' Abroad into the crouded portico — 
" I am not wanting to myself, but say, 65 

*' Thus shall I mend my life, this is the better 

"way: 
" So shall I please my friends : this man did ill ! 
" May prudence from like blame preserve me 

still, 



166 

^* The scent which first the new-made cask re- 

*^ ceives, 
'^ Not soon the saturated vessel leaves : 70 

** Nor early ceases to improve, the youth 
*' Whose bosom pure has drank the words of 
^ "Truth. 

*' Thus taught my Father Me. Of such an one, 
^' What man of sense need blush to own himself 

" the Son ? 
" Nor will I e'er my humble birth excuse 
*' By the same arguments which others use — 
"That/A^y in fact are not to blame, but fate, 
'' If their sires are not noble, rich, and great — 



^^* Quo semel est imbuta recens, serrabit odorem 

Testa diu — 

Nunc adbibe pure 

Pectore verba puer: Epist. 2. B. 1. 

3_^* Nil me paeniteat sanum patris hujus — (Src. 

Satire 6. Book 1. V. 89— to the end. 



167 

«' But thus will I defend myself. From such, 

** My sentiments and reasons differ much. 80 

" For, if our lives kind nature should ordain, 

*' We might begin at a fix'd age again, 

** And chuse our parents of the proudest line — 

** Let those who would, take others — I with mine 

*' Contented, never would exchange for theirs, 85 

•^ With fasces burden'd, and with curule chairs : 

" Mad in the world's opinion, but in mine 

*' A man of sounder sense, if I decline 

** To take upon myself a load of care, 

*' My shoulders never have been us'd to bear. 90 

** For then I daily must augment my store, 

** Daily oblig'd to bow to more and more ! 



**• The fasces borne by the lictors are well known 
as ensigns of dignity among the Romans, from the 
Dictator who had 24, down to the Praetor who had 
only 6. The curule chairs were ivory seats on which 
those senators, who had attained to the highest honours 
•f the magistracy, rode to court in their chariots. 



168 

*' Be fore'd to take a servant on each side, 
*' Nor even dare alone to walk, or ride. 
"More and more lacqueys still condemned to 
feed, 95 

" More travelling waggons take, and many a steed. 
" Now, even to Tarentum, if I please, 
^' On my cropt mule I wander at my ease, 
** Whose shoulders saddle-gall'd, the rider loads> 
*' While his chaf 'd loins the wallet incommodes. 
** Yet no one thinks me, Tillius ! so mean 
" As thee, when on the road to Tibur seen 
" With those five half-starv'd followers of thine* 
** Thy travelling kettle, and thy jug of wine. 
** Thus with more real comfort do I live, 105 

** Than wealth, or senatorial rank can give : 
" Wherever fancy leads, alone I steal : 
^* Enquire the price of pot-herbs, or of meal ; 



169 

" Oft, through the circus false, or forum, bend 
" My evening walk ; or sacrifice attend : 110 
** Then homeward hie me to a dish of beet, 
*' Or leeks, or vetches, and my supper eat. 
^* Three boys attend : on a white marble stand 
*^ Two flaggons with a cup : and near at hand, 
" A cheap Echinus*, and a bowl and ewer, 115 
<^ My genuine Campanian furniture. 

'^^' Fallacem Circum — so called on account of the 
soothsayers and astrologers &c., who there circulated 
their false predictions. Whether the translator be 
right or wrong in the names he has adopted from the 
commentators, for the vegetables mentioned by Ho- 
race, is of little consequence ; as the main object of the 
poet is to shew that he made a vegetable supper. 

*'"• Assisto divinis is by some explained "I stand 
by to hear the diviners." 

*'*• The two pocula seem to have been a species of 
tankard or decanter, one probably containing wine, 
the other water ; which were mixed in the cyathus (or 
cup) at the option of the drinker. 

* It seems a doubt amongst the commentators 



170 

" Then I to bed retire devoid of care, 

*' Not early bound to-morrow to repair 

*' Where Marsyas cries, in torture and despair, 

" Judge Nevius' slave-born face I cannot bear ! 1 20 

" I lie till ten : then stroll, or read and write 
" Whatever musing silence may delight. 
" Then, Natta ! I am rubb'd with oil, more sweet 
** Than that of which thy locks the lanterns cheat I 
" To bathe admonish'd by the fiercer sun , 125 
" With care the season's raging heat I shun. 



whether the Echinus means a bason or saltcellar — the 
patera a bowl, or a stand — and the guttus an ewer or a 
cruet ! 

Non nostrum est tantas componere lites! 
Let the reader judge for himself. Thus much seems 
certain ; that (whatever the forms of the vessels might 
be) they were neither more nor less than Campanian 
(better known some years ago by the name of Etrus- 
can) Vases, which have been found in great quantities 
in the neighbourhood of the birth-place of Horace. 



171 

'' After a moderate dinner, such as may, 

" Suffice to keep off hunger for the day, 

" I taste domestic leisure. Such my life, 

" Uncurst with grave ambition's wretched strife ; 

*' With this Fm happier, more exempt from 

spleen, 1 32 

" Than had my uncle, sire, and grandsire Quaes- 
tors been. 



As the Translations which have been introduced into 
this work for the purpose of illustrating the Life 
and Character of Horace, are necessarily uncon- 
nected otherwise than by their association to the 
Sabine Farm — it may not be improper to add 
here the following short abstract of his Life. 

QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS was born at 
Venusium, a city of Apulia, two years before the con- 
spiracy of Catiline, in the second consulate of L, Au- 
relius Cotta and Manilas Torquatus. 



172 

His father (as he himself tells us) was a freedman 
and a collector of taxes : and is supposed also to have 
been a Salsamentaritcs (a person employed in salting) 
since it is recorded that some one asked Horace, m a 
sneering manner, " how often have I seen your father 
wipe his nose with his arm V 

His father educated him at Rome ; where he was 
instructed in grammar by Orbilius, whose severity he 
has recorded by the ludicrous epithet of (plagosus) 
" the flogger." 

He went to study philosophy at Athens. From 
whence he was called away in his twenty third year by 
Brutus to the civil war, and bore the rank of Tribune • 
at the battle of Philippi. His party being defeated, his 
paternal property was confiscated, and he applied him- 
self to poetry. This procured him the friendship of 
Maecenas; who effected his reconciliation with Au- 
gustus. This prince treated him with great kindness 
(as appears by the familiar appellations, and fragments 
of letters recorded by Suetonius) and offered to make 
him his secretary, which the poet declined. 

It might be partly with a view to persuade Augustus 
that he was never hearty in the cause against him, that 
he 60 often laughs at himself for running away at th© 



173 



battfe of Philippl. Notwithstanding the original bias 
of his mind in fevour of freedom, he was perhaps ra- 
ther too much of a courtier ; but when the cause of 
liberty was found to be hopeless, it appears by no means 
incredible that a man of his affectionate temper might 
(with great sincerity) become personally attached to 
Augustus, and must^eZ all the warmth of grateful 
friendship which he professed for Maecenas. 

He was, (as he records himself) a short fat mam 
and Augustus jocosely observed on receiving a book 
from him, that he seemed to be afraid his book 
should be bigger than himself— but that to make the 
likeness perfect he should inscribe it in a quartern 
measure, whose swelling belly would resemble his own. 
Vid. Suet, in Vit. Hor. 

He died in the consulate of C. Marcius Censorinus 
and C. Asinius Gallus, aged 57. He named Augus- 
tus his heir, and was buried on the Esquiline hill, near 
Maecenas. The above abstract, short as it is, contains 
all that is known of the life of Horace, except what is 
recorded in his own works — the author might certainly 
have extended his extracts from these still farther — 
but fears that he ought rather to apologise for having 
made them too long already. 



174 

The gay turn of Horace, and the dissolute luxury 
of his age naturally led him into some weaknesses and 
some vices which he has too unblushingly recorded — 
but with the exception of these, his poems must be 
allowed to be full of the purest, and most amiable mo* 
rality. 



APPENDIX, 



NO III. 

TRANSLATION OF THETIBURTINE VILLA OF VOPISCUS 
FROM STATIJJS. 



N 



178 



VILLA TIBURTINA MANLII VOPISCL 



Cernere facuncli Tibur glaciale Vopisci 
Si quis, et inserto geminos Aniene penates, 
Aut potuit sociae commercia noscere ripse, 
Certantesque sibi dominum defendere villas 



179 



APPENDIX. 



NO III. 

TRANSLATION OF THE TIBURTINE VILLA OF V0PISCU8 
FROM STATIUS. 

1 IBUR ! whoe'er beholds thy shady seat, 
Our eloquent Vopiscus' cool retreat : 
Whoe'er the social banks' sweet commerce knows, 
Where, 'mid the Twin-Penates, Anio flows, 
And rival Villas gratefully contend 5 

Their lord from fervent Summer to defend — 



'• The text of this poem is so mutilated that Mark-- 
land calls it (with great truth) corruptissima ecloga ! 
the translator has therefore in some places availed 
himself of Markland's corrections, and in others ven* 
tured to retain the common reading. 



180 

Ilium nee calido iatravit Sirius astro, 
Nee gravis aspexit Nemees frondentis alumnus. 
Talis hyems tectis, frangunt sic improba solem 
Frigora, Pisaeumque domus non aestuat annum. 
Ipsa manu tenera tectum scripsisse Voluptas 
Tunc Venus Idaliis unxit fasiigia succis, 
Permulsitque comas, blandumque reliquit bono- 

rem 
Sedibus, et volucres vetuit discedere natos. 



181 

Him, nor tliG raging Sirius' sultry sign, 

Or Nemea's lion, views with eye malign : 

Roofs of such unremitting coolness here 

The sun exclude, and hot Piscjean year, 10 

Pleasure's own tender hand the palace drew : 

While on its airy towers Idalian dew 

Fair Venus shed, and smoothed its tresses green, 

Breathing her own bland honours o'er the scene : 

And as she left it, with reverted eye, 15 

Forbade her win2:ed cupids thence to flv. 



^'* The heat of the sun cannot affect him even when 
in Sirius or Leo. 

*°* The Pisaean games were held at the hottest time 
of the year. 

^^* There is another reading to this passage, viz. 
" permulsitque comis" she smoothed or stroked it gently 
with her hair — ^but the translator has preferred retain- 
ing the common reading of " permulsitque comas'* as 
more characteristic of the situation of the villa which 
the woods must have overhung in such a manner as 
to form as it were *' the tresses" of the building. 



182 

O longum memoranda dies ! quae mente reporto 
Gaudia ! quam lassos per tot miracula visus ! 
Ingenium quam mite solo ! quae forma beatis 
Arte manfts concessa locis I non largiils usquam 
Indulsit Natura sibi : nemora alta citatis 
Incubuere vadis ; fallax responsat imago 
Frondibus, et longas eadem fugit umbra per un- 



Ipse Anien (miranda fides) inMque, superque 
Saxeus; hie tumidam rabiem, spumosaque ponit 
Murmura, ceu placidi veritus turbare Vopisci 
Pieriosque dies, et habentes carmina somnos. 
Littus utrumque domi : nee te mitissimus amnis 



183 

Oh day for ever dear ! how fair arise 

To thought, the wonders that o'erpow'r'd my 

eyes! 
So kind the genius of the happy soil, 
Still happier made by art's improving toil ! 20 
Yet nature no where fairer can appear, 
Or more indulgent to herself, than here. 
The lofty woods o'er the swift torrent lean : 
The mocking waves reflect the leafy scene. 
Whose floating shades o'er the long waters move — 
While strange to tell! with rocks below, above, 26 
Ev'n Anio, studious of Vopiscus' peace, 
Bids his hoarse rage, and foamy murmurs cease ; 
And sooth, not trouble, with the trickling streams, 
His days Pierian, his inspiring dreams. 30 

Both shores one palace form : the gentle tide 
Forbids not our ac<:ess to either side : 



^^' The torrent was not so furious as to prevent the 
two pavilions being connected by a bridge. 



184 

Dividit ; al tern as servant praetoria ripas, 

Non externa, sibi, fluviumve obstare querun- 

tur. 
Sestiacos nunc fama sinus, pelagusque natatum 
Jactet, et audaci j unctos delphinas ephebo : 
Hie aeterna quies, nullus hie jura procellis, 
Nusquam fervor aquis. Datur hlc transmittere 

visus, 
Et voces, et paene manus : sic Chalcida fluctus 
Expellunt reflui : sic dissociata profundo, 
Bruttia Sicanium circumspicit ora Pelorum. 
Quid primum, mediumve canam? quo fine 

quiescam ; 
Auratasne trabes ? an Mauros undique postes ? 
An picturata lucentia marmora ven^ 
Mirer ? an emissas per cuncta cubilia iymphas f 



185 

Th' alternate banks the Twin-Pavilions keep, 
Nor, disunited, mourn th' obstructing deep. 
Her Sestian Bay let Fame unenvied boast, 35 
Whose stormy sea the daring lover crost: 
And the bold youth borne o'er the watery plains 
By harness'd dolphins. Here soft quiet reigns 
Uninterrupted ; here no tempest raves. 
Nor lashes into rage the boiling waves. 40 

The voice, almost the hands, across can reach- 
Thus refluent tides part Chalcis from the beach ; 
And sever'd thus, the Bruttian coast surveys 
Pelorus, circled by Sicanian seas. 
What first, what midst, and what shall last be told ? 
The Moorish pillars, or the beams of gold ? 46 
The shining marbles vein'd with painted shade. 
Or the cool streams to every couch convey'd ? 

^^' Alludes to the well known story of Hero and 
Leander. 

3"» « The bold youth " here mentioned is supposed 
to mean Achilles, vid. Stat. Achill. 1. 222. 



186 



Hue oculisjhuc mente trahor. Venerabile dicam 
Lucorum senium ? te quae vada fluminis infra 
Cernis ? an ad sylvas quae respicis, aula, tacentes? 
Qua tibi tota quies, offensaque turbine nullo 
Nox silet, et teneros invitant murmura somnos. 
An quae graminei suscepta crepidine fumant 
Balnea, et impositum ripis algentibus ignem ? 
Quaque vaporiferis junctus fornacibus amnis, 
Ridet anhelantes vicino flumine Nymphas. 
A^'idi artes, veterumque manus, variisque me- 

talla 
Viva modis : labor est, auri memorare figuras, 
Aut ebur, aut dignas digitis contingere gem- 
mas. 
Quicquid et argento Mentor: vel in aere My- 

ronis ; 
Zeuxidos aut vario manus est experta colore. 



187 

This way the eye, and that the fancy roves- 
Shall I not sing yon venerable groves ? 50 
This fair saloon that views the downward floods ? 
Or that, uplooking to the silent woods ? 
Where total calm, and storm-unruffled night 
Rest, and soft murmurs gentle sleep invite. 
From baths in grassy creeks the smoke aspires, 55 
And the cold margin glows with secret fires ; 
While Anio smiles (as he the furnace laves) 
At the nymphs panting in the tepid waves. 
Arts I beheld, and ancient works, that give 
The metals under various forms to live. 60 
'Twere toil each ivory figure to retrace. 
Or gold, or gems that might the finger grace ; 
Whate'er in silver Mentor; Myro form'd 
In brass ; or Zeuxis' various colours warm'd. 

% The common reading of this passage is 

Quicquid in argento primura vel in aere Myronis 
Lussit, et enormes manus est experta colossos,^ 



188 



Dum vagor aspectu, visusque per omnia duco, 
Calcabam, iiec opinus, opes. Nam splendor ab alto 
Defluus, et nitidum referentes aera testas 
Monstrav^re solum, varias uoi picta per artes 
Gaudet humus, siiperatque novis asarota figuris. 
Expavere gradus. Quid nunc ingentia mirer, 
Aut quid partitis distaiitia tecta trichoris ? 
Quid te, quae mediis servata penatibus, arbor, 
Tecta per, et posies liquidas emergis in auras ? 
Quo non sub domino ssevas passura bipennes ! 
Et nunc ignarae forsan vel lubrica Nais^ 



189 

But while from charm to charm my eyes are led, 
My unsuspecting feet on riches tread ! 66 

As from on high the downward splendors pour, 
By polish'd tiles reflected on the floor. 
Its pictured ground boasts many a richer hue, 
And fairer form, than e'er Mosaic knew. 70 

My steps recoilM. Shall I admire the size. 
Or distance of the separate roofs that rise 
O'er each fair centre and proportion'd wings? 
Or, in the midst preserved, the tree that springs 
Through roofs and columns to the liquid air ? 75 
Thee whom no other lord's fell axe would spare ! 
Ev'n now perhaps, thou fair, unconscious tree! 
Some Naiad of the gliding wave may see. 

Each masterpiece in brass or sliver made. 
Or in colossal form by Myro's art displayed. 

But the learned Markland has proposed and supported 
the reading in the text with so much plausibility that 
the translator has ventured to adopt it. 

'^^' The reading here adopted in the text was suggested 
to Markland by Jortin, and the translator has been con- 



190 

Vel non abruptostibi debet Hamadryas annos. 
Quid referam alternas gemino superaggere nym« 

phas 
Albentesque lacus, altosque in gurgite fontes ? 

Teque per obliquum penitus quae laberis amnem 
Martia, & audaci transcurris flumina plumbo ? 
An solum loniis sub fluctibus Elidis amnem 
Dulcis ad ^tneos deducat semita portus ? 
Illis ipse antris Anienus, fonte relicto, 
Nocte sub arcana glaucos exutus amictus. 
Hue illuc fragili prosternit pectora musco : 
Aut ingens in stagna cadit, vitreasque natatu 



191 

Or Hamadryad fair, her fate deferr'd in thee. 
Why sing th' alternate baths on either mound, 80 
The whitening lakes, springs deep in whirlpools 

found. 
Or Marcia, thee, whose slanting waters glide 
In daring lead across the river's tide? 
Does Elis' stream unrivalPd passage gain 
To Etna's port beneath th' Ionian main ? 85 

Here in deep caves, with subterraneous course, 
Fair Anio too forsakes his parent source ; 
In secret night puts off his azure vest, 
And leans on beds of tender moss his breast ; 
Or plunges into lakes his ample limbs, 90 

The crystal waves resounding as he swims. 



firmed in the opinion of it's propriety by a passage 
cited by the elegant author of " The Plants," which 
proves that the destiny of Naiads as well as Hama- 
dryads was considered by the ancients as interwoven 
with that of their coeval trees. It is as follows : 

Naiada vulneribus succidit in arbore factis ; 
Ilia perit : fatum Naiados arbor erat. 



192 

Plaudit aquas. Ilia recubat Tiburnus in umbra, 
Illic sulfureos cupit Albula mergere crines. 
Haec domus, JEgeria nemoralemabjungerePhoe- 

ben, 
Et Dryad um viduare choris algentia possit 
Taygeta, et sylvis arcessere Pana Lycaeis. 
Quod ni templadarent alias Tirynthia sortes, 
Et Prsenestinse poterint migrare sorores. 
Quid bifera Alcinoi laudem pomaria ? vosque 
Qui nunquam vacui prodistis in sethera rami t 



*Tis in yon shade Tiburnus rests : and there 
Longs Albula to dip her sulph'rous hair. 
Ev'n from the grotto to Egeria dear, 
These scenes might tempt the sylvan Phoebe 
here; 95 

Of Dryad choirs Taygetus bereave, 
And Pan himself, Lycajan groves to leave 
For this still fairer mansion might incline — 
And, (if Alcides no response divine 
Would offer here by fortune undecreed) 100 

Praeneste's sisters hither might recede. 
Why should we praise Alcinous* orchards fair, 
And trees that ne'er unladen rise in air ? 



*3» Albula was the nymph of the sulphureous lake 
mentioned in the first part of the Sabine Farm. 

'^' Hercules had a temple ^t Tibur : and Statius says 
the Prsenestine Sisters (for there was more than one 
Fortune worshipped at Praeneste) might be tempted 
to emigrate here if the responses of the oracle of 
Hercules would not be at variance with their own. 



194 

Cedant Telegoni, cedant Laurenfeia Turnl 
Jugera, Lucrinaeque domus, littusque cruenti 
Antiphatae : cedant vitrese juga perfida Circes 
Dulichiis ululata lupis, arcesque superbae 
Anxuris, et sedes Phrygio quas mitis alumno 
Debet anus : cedant quas te jam solibus arctis 
Antia nimbosarevocabunt littora brum^. 
Scilicet bic illi meditantur pondera mores : 
Hie premitur fsecunda quies, virtusque seren4 
Fronte gravis, sanusque nitor, luxuque carentes 



^ 



195 

To these, Telegonusl thy acres yield, 
And ev'n Laurentian Turn us' fruitful field ; 105 
Ev'n beauteous Circe's own perfidious height. 
Where fierce Dulichian wolves howlM out the 

night : 
The Lucrine temples, and the lovely shore 
Of fell Antiphates, delight no more ; 
Anxur's proud turrets, nor the long abode 110 
^neas on his tender nurse bestow'd : 
Nor even Antia's shore, thy lov'd retreat 
In shorter suns, when wintery tempests beat. 
For here new weight by meditation gains 
Thy moral mind . here fruitful quiet reigns, 115 
And Virtue, serious, yet of brow serene. 
And Sense with taste combin'd to grace the scene, 
And pure delight, of luxury devoid. 
Which Epicurus might have more enjoy'd 



*'°* Gaeta — ^which is a very slight corruption of Vir- 
eil's " Caieta," the nurse of ^neas. 



196 



Deliciae, quas ipse suis digressus Athenis 
Mallet deserto senior Gargettius horto. 
. Haec per et JEgeas hyemes, Pliadumque nivosum 
Sidus, et Oleniis dignum petriise sub astris. 
Si Maleae credenda ratis, Siculosque persestu^ 
Sit via : cui* oculis sordet vicina voluptas ? 
Hie tua Tiburtes Faunos chelys, et juvat ipsum 
Alciden, dictumque lyra majore Catillum. 
Seu tibi Pindaricis animus contendere plectris, 
Sive chelyn tollas heroa ad robora, sive 
Liventem satyram nigra rubigine torbes; 
Seu tua non alta splendescat epistola cur^ : 
Digne Midae, Craesique bonis, et Perside gaz^, 
Macte bonis animi ! cujus stagnantia rura 
Debui tet fiavis Hermus transcurrere ripis, 



197 

Than his own Athens, and his garden dear : 129 

Pleas'd to have found a fairer garden here. 

This well might tempt to brave ^Egean seas, 

ThVOlenian stars, and wintr}* Pleiades! 

If to false Malea we the bark confide, 

And through Sicilian straits the vessel guide, 125 

Why madly overlook the pleasure near ? 

Thy chorded shell the Fauns of Tibur hear 

Weil pleas'd: Alcides joins th' admiring throng, 

And old Catillus, theme of Epic scng^ 

Whether with Pindar's fire thou sweep the string, 

Or thy bold muse the fate of heroes sing ; 131 

Arouse dark satire of indignant vein, 

Or shine in free Epistle's humbler strain — ^ 

Worthy of Midas and of Cra^sus store ; 

And all the riches of the Persian shore ; 136 

The wealth of mind be thine! whose flooded lands 

Hermus should traverse with his yellow sands, 

**^ atillus is celebrated by Virgil. 



198 

Et limo splendente Tagus ! Sic 4octa frequent^v. 
Otia, sic omni-detectuspectora nube 
Finem Nestoreae precor egrediare senect® 



199 

And Tagus' golden gravel heap the coast] — 
Oft may these scenes your learned leisure boast ! 
And you, while health your cloudless bosom 
cheers, 140 

Outlive the period of a Nestor's years ! 



I 



APPENDIX. 

NO- IV. 

MISCELtANEOUS ODES, FKOM HORACE. 



NOTE. 



Some time ago a literary friend who had read " the 
Sabine Farm" recommended to the author to 
give " an entire translation of Horace." 

At that moment however he did not entertain any 
thought of an undertaking which appeared to him 
so arduous ; but has since been induced to translate 
a fewimore odes by way of experiment, and some other 
friends have encouraged him to persevere. 

He should certainly execute such an undertaking coii 
amore — ^but would be sorry to waste so large a por- 
tion of his leisure, as it must necessarily occupy, 
in doing that which less partial judges might think 
had been at least as ivell if not better done before. 



!2C4 

He should therefore feel himself obliged to those gen- 
tlemen who may review this work, for any candid 
critiques with which they may be disposed to fa- 
vour him upon this subject ; that he may be ena- 
bled to judge " whether a new translation of Ho- 
race, executed throughout in the same manner 
with the specimens contained in this work, would 
or would not be an acceptable offering to the pub- 
lic." 

He is indeed conscious, that his desire to imitate the 
natural and almost colloquial flow of the original, 
(in those passages which he has introduced from the 
Epistles and Satires,) has led him to run his lines 
into each other more freely than is perhaps con- 
sistent with the true harmony of the rhymed couplet, 
even in the mouth of a good reader ; and also to 
use some expressions which may be thought below 
the level even of the familiar style of Horace. 

These however, (if faults,) are faults which he flatters 
himself might be amended (to a certain degree) 
without difliculty. 

The odes appear to him to present a difficulty of a 
much more arduous nature. That " curiosa felici- 
tas,'*— that extreme elegance and propriety of dic» 



205 

tion which is the combined result of art and ge- 
nius, and the most distinguishing characteristic of 
Horace as a Lyric Poet, — it is perhaps impossible 
wholly to transfuse into any other language. For 
many of his most happy expressions, our language 
affords no correspondent terms; and the difficulty 
is not a little encreased by that regularity^ yet 
often relieved 'variety^ of stanza, which it seems 
necessary to adopt, in order to convey any thing like 
an adequate notion of the manner of Horace. 

There cannot indeed be any exact resemblance between 
Latin and English verses; since quantity is the sole 
measure of the one, and accent of the other. 

That quantity is the sole measure of Latin verse is 
universally known and acknowledged ; but that ac- 
cent is the sole measure of English verse, is a 
truth that has been so little attended to even by 
our most elegant scholars, that a brief compari- 
son of the grand principles of ancient and modern 
versification, will perhaps not be deemed a digression 
altogether .useless. 

After all the learning which has been wasted on the 
subject of ancient pronunciation, there seems no 
good reason to suppose that the accent of the 



206 

ancient Romans was materially different from our 
own; or that their pronunciation of the consonant 
and vowel sounds was materiallij different from those 
of the modern Italians. 

However this may be, and however it might, (nay, in- 
deed must) affect the harmony of their verse — yet it 
formed no part of it's essential rule and measure ; 
which was simply, quantity; or the arrangement of 
syllables according to the time employed in their 
pronunciation. 

This could not, in the nature of things, have been 
made sensible to the ear in the recitation of the 
ancients, (any more than it now is in that of the 
moderns,) if they had not given double or nearly 
double the time to their long syllables which they 
gave to their short ones; or, (to use the language 
of musical notation) pronounced their long sylla- 
bles as crotchets, and the short ones as quavers. 

In our own language on the contrary, (though it is so 
far from having no quantity, that the very s^ignifi- 
cation of our words is sometimes determined by 
the quantity of their vowel sounds) yet we never 
make a difference in the length of our syllables 



207 

by any means in the propoitlon of tuoo to o«e:* 
and therefore they cannot be sufficiently distinct (ai 
long syllables) to become the measure of verse. 
But, as in every word of our language, one syllable 
is forcibly distinguished from the rest by it's accent i 
when these accents fall regularly upon every other 
syllable, or upon every third syllable, the ear 
plainly perceives the regularity of that arrangement, 
which drums upon these (seemingly equal in length) 
syllables, either with an eveuy or triple cadence; 
which is analogous to common or triple time in music. 

The syllables, having thus acquired a musical rhythm 
which does not exist in prose, are capable of being 
divided into bars or verses; which may be distin- 
guished from each other by a sensible pause at the 
end, as in blank verse ; or by the more striking re- 
currence of similar sounds, as in rhymed poetry. 

That this is a true state of the case, any unprejudiced 
person " digitis qui callet et aure," may easily con- 
vince himself by beating time to his own recita- 
tion of any English poetry whatever: which will 



* Unless perhaps in words which the Italians would call sdruc- 
ciole, such as every, various, &c. where the two latter syllables oc- 
cupy the space of one beat, if time be beaten once to each sylla- 
ble necessary to conopleat the verse. 



208 

prove to him that the accented syllables are some- 
times a little longer, and sometimes a little shorter 
than the unaccented ones ; but that upon the whole 
the ear will readily acquiesce in the idea of their 
equality : whereas if he were to make the ac- 
cented syllables twice as long as the others it would 
produce a drawling wholly insupportable to an Eng- 
lish ear. 

Jf this reasoning and this experiment should fail to 
convince him, he may (if he have any farther 
curiosity upon the subject) find it most ingeniously 
and elaborately treated in Mr. Mitford^s " Harmony 
of Language." 

From what has been said it follows as a corollary, 
that what are called English trochees, are nothing 
more than dissyllabic portions of verse in which the 
accent falls upon the Jlrst syllable ; whereas in those 
which are called English Iambics it falls upon the 
second : in the same manner as our dactyls are tri- 
•yllabic portions of verse in which the accent falls 
upon thejlrst syllable, while in our anapaests it falls 
upon the third. They are therefore so far from 
imitating the time of the ancient feet whose name 
they bear, that they absolutely reverse it — since the 
trochees and iambics of the ancients were dissylla* 
Mes in triple time, and ours are dissyllables in even 



209 

or common time : their dactyls and anapaests trisyl- 
lables in common time; while ours are trisyllables 
in triple time. 

That the quantity or time of the syllables is not in re- 
ality altered by the accent will appear from the two 
words record, and saraband ; the first becomes 
an English iambic or trochee as it is pronounced re- 
cord, or record; and the second an anapaest or a 
dactyl as it is pronounced saraband, or saraband : 
while the time employed in pronouncing the sylla- 
bles remains as nearly as possible the same*. 

The result of all this as it applies to a translator is that 
all direct imitations of ancient metres must be mis- 

* If the readei' should ask, how is the time of a regular English 
verse of the even cadence (called iambic or trochaic) to be beaten ^ 
it is answered, upon the accented syllable in each foot; in the 
same way as it is beaten upon the accented note of a bar contaia* 
ing two equal notes of music in common time. e. g. 

A I wake my [ Saint-john f leave all | meaner | things 

It is not meant that English verse ever is or ought to be recited 

in stridly musical time, but that it nearly corresponds with it when 

thus beaten — whereas in order to make it correspond with rea^ 

iambic or trochaic verse, the accented syllables must be lengthened 

thus, 

» 

A ) wa-akemy j Sa-aint-john | id-eave all ( me-eaner | things 
and thus become analogous to music in triple time. Irs verses 
called dactylic or anap^stic it is directly the reverse, since (to h^ 
really such) they must be pronounced in common time thus' 

G6-od save great j Ge-eorge our king, 
vhereas they are pronounced (as sung) in triple tim,e. 



210 

representations unless intended for Music ; in which 
case th^ accented syllables may be lengthened out 
in singing to the quantity of the original. 

But the truncated ending of the sapphic stanza — the 
alternation of longer and shorter lines in other 
measures ; and a resemblance (though perhaps 
only a fancied one) to the general character and 
flow of the Latin stanza, ought still to be attempted 
as far as possible in stanzas which are natural and 
pleasing to an English ear. 

The length of the stanza is of still greater importance 
as it obliges the translator to contract or expand the 
sense of his author. The first is the more vigorous 
mode, but is in danger of becoming obscure and stiff: 
the other is more easy and elegant, but is apt to dege- 
nerate into weakness, as it occasions the introduction 
of epithets not found in the original. Ode 3. B. I, 
Ode 4. B. II. and Ode 2. B. V. are instances of 
the first mode: the remaining odes are in stanzas 
mostly a few syllables longer than the original. In 
all of them he has endeavoured that the translation 
should be literal, without ceasing to be poetical. 

He cannot omit this oportunity of thanking those 
friends to whom he has been indebted for so many 
judicious critiques ; since (whatever reception this 
little work may experience from the public) he must 
always recollect those critiques with pleasure, as 
well as the kindness and frankness with which they 
werg communicated. / 



ODE 1. BOOK 1. 

TO MAECENAS. 

O THOU, of ancient monarchs born I 
Whose favours shield me and adorn— 
Belov'd Maecenas ! Some there are, 
Who joy to gather on the car 
Olympian dust ; and, as the}'- roll 
On kindling wheel, to shun the goal : 
Whom, lords of earth, the palm of praise^ 
To the immortal gods can raise. 

Not he whom fickle Rome's acclaim, 
With threefold honour, lifts to fame : 
Nor he who counts his proper stores 
Whatever is brush'd from Lib}- an floors. 
Nor he who joys to cleave the plain 
With parent-hoe, for Asia's gain 
Would dare, with keel of Cyprian wood, 
(Trembling) to cut the ^gean flood. 



212 

The merchant, when the south-west raves. 
Contending with Icarian waves, 
Praises the calm his village yields, 
And O ! how pleasant are it's fields ! 
But see him soon his wreck repair, 
Untutor'd poverty to bear. 

Some scorn not ancient Massic wine. 
Nor blush, ere solid day decline. 
With flowing bowls at leisure laid. 
Their careless limbs beneath the shade 
Of the green arbutus to fling : 
Or near some sweet and sacred spring. 

Some, horns with trumpets mix'd, delight ; 
And wars, that tender mothers fright. 
Forgetful of his loving wife. 
The hunter leads abroad his life 
In the cold air : whether some hound, 
Staunch to his game, a deer hath found ; 
Or Marsyan boar (a mighty spoil) 
Hath broken the too slender toil. 



213 

Thee ivy-wreaths, to learning given. 

Exalt amid the powers of Heaven. 

Me the cool forest shades invite ; 

Me, Nymphs with Satyrs dancing light. 

Draw from the vulgar : if, nor mute, 

Euterpe should refuse her flute. 

Nor Polyhymnia withhold 

Her Lesbian lyre. But if enroll'd 

By thee mid lyric bards I rise — 

My lofty front shall strike the skies ! 



ODE 2. BOOK I 



TO AUGUSTUS C^SAR. 

Enough of snow th' Almighty Sire 
Hath sent on earth, with hail storm dire. 

In all his terrors arm'd ; ' 

And launching from his red right hand. 
On his own towers the lightning brand, 

Rome hath alarm'd 



214 

Alarm'd the nations : lest once more 
The flood returning, as of yore, 

The sad portents renew. 
Which Pyrrha waiPd, when Proteus hoai 
Drove all his ocean -flock from shore. 

The hills to view. 

In elm-tree tops when fishes hung, 
Where late in air her callow young 

The dove was wont to rear : 
While o'er the fields their late abode, 
In the wide sea that all o'er-flow'd 

Swam trembling deer. 

We saw the yellow Tibur rolPd 
Backward, in fuiy uncontroll'd. 
From the Etruscan main — 
With all his might of waters go 
The works of Numa to overthrow. 

And Vesta's fane. 



215 

While Ilia her unmeasur'd woes 
Too deeply mourn'd — the river rose, 
High-swoln with angry pride : 
Though Jove the vengeance disapprov'd. 
O'er his left bank in vengeance mov'd 

Th' uxorious tide, 

Tinaes yet unborn the tale shall mourn ! 
That Rome, by civil discord torn, 
For Romans edged the spear 
Which should the Persian pride subdue — 
Our children, (by our guilt made few) 

Shall one day hear. 

Unto what God shall Romans call 
To stay the tottering empire's fall ? 

Her holy virgi^i throng, 
With what more sweet prevailing lay. 
Unto the weary Vesta pray— 

Deaf to their songl 



216 

All whom shall pitying Jove ordain 
To expiate the guilty stain ? 

O come, great source of light, 
Phoebus oracular ! we pray — 
O come at length, while clouds array 

Thy shoulders bright. 

Or thou, sweet smiling Venus ! move 
Hither, while round thee mirth, and love, 

On frolic pinion fly : 
Or, Mars ! unbend thy rigid brow. 
And view thy race neglected, now. 

With pitying eye. 

Satiate, thy long long sport give o'er. 
Thou whom the furious battle roar 
And plumed helms delight: 
And the fierce look that on his foes 
The sable Moor around him throws, 

III bloody fight. 



1.1 



217 

Or if, O Maia's winged birth ! 
In shape assum'd to visit earth 

Thou deign, a youth in show. 
And take upon tliee mortal state — 
Th' avenger of great Caesar's fate, 

Thy name below. 

O late return to Heaven ! O long, 
Joyful ainid Q,uirinus' throng, 

Extend thy willing stay : 
Nor let resentment of our crime 
Upon the whirlwind's wing sublime 

Bear thee away. 

But rather in glad triumphs here 
Let Father, Prince, delight thine ear ; 

Nor, thou our army's guide, 
O Caesar! letth' insulting Mede, 
Elate upon his warrior steed> 

Unpunish'd ride. 



ODE 3. BOOK I. 

TO THE SHIP WHICH CARRIED VIRGIL TO ATHENS. 

So may Cyprus' Goddess Queel5, 
And Helen's brother planets shining. 
So may the Sire of winds, serene, 
(All but the Zephyr's breath confining) — 

Guide thee, Ship ! that to the shore 
Of Attica, with course unswerving, 

Entrusted Virgil thou restore ; 
Half of my life in his preserving ! 

With oak and triple brass was bound 
His breast, who first, the billows brushing 

In frail skiff, rode the dark profound — 
Nor fear'd the blast from Afric rushing : 



219 

Feared not his war with Northern winds: 
Nor the moist stars that threat commotion ; 

Nor the fierce South : whom Adria finds 
Lord of the smooth, or swelling ocean. 

What shape of death to fear had he. 
Who, (not one tear his dread denoting) 

Th' accurs'd Ceraunian rocks could see ; 
The mountain waves, and monsters floating I 

Prudent in vain, hath Nature's Lord, 
Earth by th' unsocial main divided ; 

Since o'er the deep they cannot ford. 
Mankind in impious barks have glided. 

Men rush, by punishment unaw'd. 
Through all things sdcred and forbidden • 

Prometheus rash, by fatal fraud, 
Obtain'd the fire from mortals hidden. 



220 

Soon as that fire from heaven he drew, 
A brooding host on earth descended, 

Consumption lean, and fevers new : 
While death, that slow ere while impended- 

Hastens now with rapid stride. 
Sage Daedalus, the void Cerulean 

Roam'd, with wings to man denied. 
Ev'n Hell was forc'd by toil Herculean. 

Mortals nothing arduous know : 
Soars, ev'n to Heaven itself, our folly : 

Nor will our guilt great Jove allow 
To stay his Thunder's wrathful volley. 



ODE 7. BOOK I. 

TO PLANCUS. 

Let others Mitylene vaunt, 

Or Ephesus, or far-fam'd Rhodes ! 

Or fair vvall'd Corinth's double sea ; 
Or great Apollo's Delphic haunt ; 

Or Theban Bacchus' fair abodes ; 

Or Tempe, pride of Thessaly ! 

Let others with unceasing aim, 
Toil Athens only to rehearse, 
The chaste Minerva's favour'd seat • 

N.or deign to give one plant to fame, 
Save fruitful Olive, in their verse ; 
Or Argos, fam'd for steeds, repeat : 



222 

Or, of the wealth Mycense yields^ 
To flatter partial Juno write- 
Not palient Lacedsemon's reign. 

Nor rich Larissa's fertile fields. 

Can my enamour'd heart delight^ 
Like fair Albunea's echoins: fane : 

Like headlong Anio's foamy force ; 

Like old Tiburnus' pendent groves. 

And fruitage, moist with falling rills I 
As Notus, in his airy course. 

From heaven's fair face the clouds removes^. 

Noreverlasting rain distils— 

Thus, wisely cheerful, Plancus ! thoii 
The bowl of genial Bacchus drain. 
Life's balm for toil and sorrow made L 

Thee, with it's gilded streamers now, 
Whether the glittering camp detain,, 
Or Tibur's thick-inwoven shade. 



223 

When Salaminian Teucer fled, 

His father, and his native isle. 

His temples, dropping wine, he bound 

With poplar wreaths, and thus he said. 
As, with a hero's manly smile, 
He cheer'd his drooping friends around 

Wherever doubtful chance, (more kind 

Than my stern Sire) our fleet shall bear, 
O friends, and comrades, let us sail ! 

Let Teucer's omens fire your mind, 

Of nought, while Teucer leads, despair ! 
Apollo's promise cannot fail. 

He sware — old Salamis, and new, 

Shall with ambiguous glory shine: 
Worse evils, O rny gallant train ! 

Full often have I prov'd with you : 

Now let us drown our cares in wine — 
To morrow, roam once more the Main, 



ODE 9. BOOK L 

TO THALIARCHUS. 

See the mountain Soracte! how dazzling bright! 

How deep is he cover'd with sno\¥ ! 

See his labouring woods their vast burden of 
white 

Scarcely bear : while the floods that in motion de- 
light, 

Stand in sharp icy fetters belovv. 

On the fair blazing hearth now the fresh billet 

fling, 
High pil'd, til it melt all the cold : 
And in two handled flaggon more bounteously 

bring, 
Thaliarchus! the liquor that makes the heart 

sing, 
From the Sabine cask four wit ters old. 



225 

Leave the rest, my good friend, to the gods gra- 
cious will ; 
For as soon as their mandates assuage 
The wild warring winds of the deep, they are 

still: 
The cypress, and old mountain-ash on the hill, 
Rock no more with the element's rage. 

Then cease to inquire what to morrow may prove 2 
But each added day offer'd by chance. 
To thy profit still turn ; (nor life's blessings above) 
Disdain in thy youth the sweet pleasures of love. 
Nor to join in the gay festive dance. 

Now, ere peevish old age turn thy dark tresses 

white, 
By day let the field, and the square. 
To each pastime and exercise manly invite % 
And ever, with love's gentle whisper, at nighty, 
To the dear assignation repair, 
a 



226 

Let the Virgin's sweet titter, with grateful alarms, 
From the corner her ambush disclose ; 
Now with rapture invade her soft-struggling charms* 
Nor tear the fond token of love from her arms, 
Or her fingers that feebly oppose. 



ODE 11. BOOK I. 



TO LEUCONOE. 

Ask not, (it were an impious search) — 

No magic numbers try, 
To find when Heaven wills thee, or me, 

Leuconoe 1 to die. 
Ah think, 'twere better far to bear 

Whatever shall betide ! 
Whether Jove many a wdnter more, 

Or this alone provide — 
Which breaks on pumice rocks oppos'd, 

Ev'n now, the Tyrrhene main. 
Be wise, nor pour the wine : nor dream 

Oflengthen'd hope in vain. 



227 

We speak : the envious moment flies — 
Then snatch to day from sorrow ; 

-And only credit, when you must, 
The promise of To-morrow. 



ODE 15. BOOK 1. 

THE PROPHECY OF NEREUS. N°' I. 

When to Troy the faithless shepherd 

Over ocean dar'd to bring 

Helen fair his Spartan hostess — 

Nereus, the winds' eager wing 

Calming to reluctant rest. 

Thus the dreadful fates expressed. 

Her in evil hour thou bearest 
Home to Ilium o'er the main^ 
Whom with iViany a warlike squadron 
Greece in arms shall seek again : 
Sworn thy nuptial tie to rend ; 
Priam's ancient Empire end. 



228 

How alas ! the panting horses, 
How the men with toil shall foam ^ 
Ah how many a death thou bringest 
To the Dardan nation home! 
Helm and aegis Pallas takes, 
Mounts her car, her fury wakes ! 

Proud in vain of favouring Venus, 
Shalt thou comb thy flowing hair. 
Warbling to thy lyre unwarlike 
Verses grateful to the fair. 
All in vain thou shalt have fled 
To the shelter of her bed ! 

From huge spears, and Gnossiaci arrows, 
From the dreadful din of fate. 
And the swift-pursuing Ajax— 
Then, although alas ! too late, 
Thine adulterous tresses must 
Clotted be with bloody dust. 



229 

Dost thou not behold Ulysses, 
(Fatal scourge of all thy kind) 
Follow thee, with Pylian Nestor? 
Dauntless urging close behind, 
Teucer, drives thee o'er the field ; 
With Sthenelus, in battle skill'd; 

Or (if war demand his horses,) 
Known no tardy ciiarioteer. 
Merion too in that sad moment. 
Thou shalt then behold more near. 
Lo ! Tydides in his ire 
Seeks thee, fiercer than his sire ! 

Whom, (like stag that in a valley 

Starts, forgetful of his feed, 

If he view the wolf at distance,) 
» 

Thou shalt fly with coward speed. 
Breathless, and high-panting blow- 
Helen was not promis'd so I 



230 

Long Achilles' wrathful navy, 
Phrygian wives, and Ilium's shore, 
Shall preserve from fated vengeance—' 
But (a few fix'd winters o'er) 
Shall the fire of Greece destroy 
The devoted Towers of Troy. 



ODE 15. BOOK I. 



THE PROPHECY OF NEREUS. N^- 2. 

When the treacherous shepherd of Troy o'er the 
deep, 

Dar'd his hostess of Sparta — fair Helen to bring — 
Nereushush'd the swift winds, all unwilling, to sleep, 

That the fates dreadful doom he might sing. 

With a bird of ill omen thou bearest to Troy, 
Her, whom Greece shall with many an host 
seek again 

Conspir'd thy connubial league to destroy, 
And Priam's imperial reign. 



231 

How the horse, how his rider shall foam in the 
field ! 
Ah ! how many a death to your country you 
bear I 
See Pallas, already, her helmet and shield. 
And her car, and her fury prepare ! 

Elated with Venus' protection, (in vain) 
Shalt thou comb thy rich locks, and divide with 
the lyre 

Unwarlike, to pleasure thy fair one the strain ; 
Thou in vain to her bed shalt retire ; 

From the Onossian dart, and the huge, heavy 
spear. 
And from Ajax' swift chace, and the tumult of 
war: , 

Then, then, though alas ! but too late — shalt thou 
smear 
With the dust thine adulterous hair. 



232 

Behold Laert*iades) scourge of thy kmd. 

With Pylian Nestor, start forth to thy sight ? 

Bold Teucer of Salamis urges behind 
With Sthenelus, skilPd in the fight. 

Nor slow, if war call him the chariot to rein; 
Valiant Merion too thou shalt nearer behold : 
See Tydides, to find thee, rage over the plain. 
More brave than his father of old ! 

Whom thou— (as, forgetful of herbage, the deer 
Starts, viewing a wolf in the valley below) 

Shalt fly, like a coward, high-panting with fear — 
Thy Helen was ne'r promis'd so ! 

Long, Achilles' stern fleet shall avert, through 
its ire, 
FromTroy , and Troy's matrons, the terrible day : 
But (some fix'd winters over) the Grecian fire 
On the towers of proud Ilium shall prey. ^ 



ODE 14. BOOK II. 

TO XANTHIAS PHOCEUS. 

Phoceus I to love thy servant Phillis 
Blush not, the slave of snowy hue, 
Briseis, charm' d (to love yet new) 

The fierce Achilles t 

Great Telamonian Ajax turn'd 

A slave to chain'd Tecmessa's charms : 
For the rapt maid, in triumph's arms, 

Atrides burn'd— • 

When by Pelides conquer'd lay 

Troy's barbarous bands of Hector reft. 
And Troy to weary Greece was left 

» A lighter prey. 

Perchance, with parents rich and great. 

Thy fair-hair'd bride thy house may grace— 
For doubtless, royal was her race. 

Unjust her fate. 



234 

She was not chosen (rest secure) 

From the base vulgar : such high scorn 
Of gain, such faith, could ne'er be bom 

Of one impure. 

Safe I her face, her arms approve. 
Her taper leg— knit not thy brow ; 
For I have doubled twenty now. 

And laugh at love ! 



ODE 18.* BOOK II. 

Neither gold nor iv'ry, gleams 

Beneath my roof, in splendid fretwork 
wrought ; 
Nor lean it's huge Hymettian beams, 

On marble shafts from farthest Afric brought. 

*This metre (though for the reasons mentioned 
in page 209 It would have a different effect in recita- 
tion) is capable of being sung to the same music with 
the original ; the time being regulated by the Latin 
quantity. 



235 

Attalus' unlook'd for heir, 

I neither in his palace proud reside ; 
Nor client- dames for me prepare 

The flowing robe in Sparta's purple dj'd* 
Wit alone, in kindly vein, 
And truth, I boast; though poor, by great 

ones sought : 
I weary not the gods for gain ; 

Nor from my powerful friend solicit aught : 
In my Sabine Farm alone. 

Rich to content ; I wish no farther boon. 
Day urges day : to fullness grown, 

Still wanes again as fast each following moon : 
While ihy bier is at the gate, 

Thou plann'st on model new the marble dome; 
Heedless of thine instant Fate ! 

In vain the seas of Bai^e round her foam— 



236 

Still thou seek' St to stretch the shore. 

Poor, if within it's ample bound confin'd ! 
Still, thy client's limits o'er, 

Wilt thou the landmark move with greedy 
mind ? 
Driven by thy cruel strife. 

To wander forth in exile and despair. 
In their sad breast, the sire and wife, 

Their houshold gods, and squalid children bear : 
Yet greedy Orcus' destin'd hall 

The rich awaits, his only certain seat. 
What wouldst thou more ? alike to All, 

Earth's equal lap affords a last retreat : 
Peasants, and the sons of kings. 

Lie undistinguish'd — nor th' Infernal guard, 
Back ev'n sage Prometheus brings, 
I Lur'd by the golden proffer of reward. 
He, o'er Tantalus the proud. 

And Tantalus' proud offspring, domineers; 
And, by the poor with labours bow'd 

Invok'dj or not invok'd to aid him — shears. 



ODES. BOOKV, 

THE PRAISES OF A COUNTRY LIFE, 

Blest is he, who far from business, 

With his herd, like man's first race. 
Ploughs his own paternal acres — 

Free from every interest base I 
He at war's fierce trumpet starts not, 

Dreads not Ocean's anger loud ; 
Comes not near the clamorous Forum, 

Nor the great man's threshold proud. 
But the vine's maturer offspring, 

Joys with poplar tall t' espouse; 
Or, amid the deep vale lowing, 

Sees his wandering cattle browze^ 
Or, the useless branch removing, 

Grafts the bough of fair increase ; 
Presses in pure jars the honey, 

Shears the sheep's encumb'ring 3eece« 



238 

Hung with mellow fruits, when autumn 

Lifts his graceful head on high, 
Pleas'd the grafted pear he gathers, 

Or the grape of Tyrian die — 
For Priapus, or, Sjlvanus ! 

Thee, the guardian of his bound : 
Now beneath an ancient holm-oak 

Stretch' d, or on the grass-wove ground : 
Glide in channels deep the rivers ; 

Birds are warbling in the woods ; 
Fountains woo the light-wingM slumbers^ 

With the murmur of their floods. 
When the blustering Jove in winter 

Stormy rain, and snow prepares t 
Savage boars with dogs he urges 

Right against the tangling snares : 
Slender nets for greedy thrushes, 

Joys on taper pole to bear : 
Or in gins, delighted captures. 

Alien crane, or timorous hare. 



239 

Who, amid these various pleasures, 

Would not. lose love's torturing cares ? 
But if here, a modest consort. 

Her sweet babes, and house affairs. 
Kindly manage — (like the Sabine, 

Or sun-burnt Apulian dame) 
For her weary husband kindle 

With dry logs the sacred flame : 

Close in folds the joyful cattle ; 

Their distended udders dry ; 
And with new-broach'd must delicious, 

Nature's feast unbought supply — 
Me not more the Lucrine oyster ; 

Turbot more ; nor char could please ; 
On our coast by winter-tempest, 

Driven from it's eastern seas ! 
Nor could ev'n the bird of Afric, 

Nor Ionia's pheasant rare, 
Charm my taste like olives gathered 

Off the laden branches fair ! 



240 

Or the meadow-loving sorrel. 
Or the mallow's wholesome food ; 

Or the lamb on feast-day slaughtered. 
Or the goat's wolf-rescued brood. 

Sweet ! to view, as thus I banquet. 
Haste from feed, my fleecy care : 

While with languid necks the oxen 
Weary drag th' inverted share : 

And the hive of wealth, my workmen, 
Round the shining hearth repair,. 

Thus, about to be a farmer. 
Did the us'rer Alphius say: 

CalPd his money home in April- 
Lent it out again in May. 



THE ENB, 



H. Bryer, Printer, Bridge-street, 
Blackfriars, London. 



